


Caught in the Crossfire

by lokifiction



Category: Loki (Marvel) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Asgard (Marvel), Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Jealous Ex-Lover, Political Uprising, ft. a lot of my personal headcanons about asgardian daily life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2018-12-11 23:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 65,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11725050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokifiction/pseuds/lokifiction
Summary: The day the Battle of New York occurred was a fateful one, especially for Camryn, who was caught in the crossfire of a Chitauri weapon and Loki’s Tesseract-powered scepter, the blast sending her into a comatose state.When Thor returns to Midgard to assist with rescue efforts, he finds her, unconscious and close to death, though emitting a strong magical trace. Puzzled by it, he brings her to Asgard for medical care- and observation.Over time, the mystery of what salvation or destruction she will cause because of her magical abnormality becomes harder and harder to solve. As she begins to lose control of herself, she must seek help from the only person that can teach her how to harness her newfound power and the one who happens to hate her the most.Loki.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Quite a lot of mild violence, a bit of death, and some blood in this one. Hope this gets you excited for the rest of the story!

The moment I woke up that morning, every fiber of my being was screaming that something was off.

Every instinct told me to stay home, to disregard items forgotten at the theatre. A dark feeling loomed in the pit of my stomach, and I should’ve paid more attention to it.

I suppose it was fate working its magic when my dread became so easy to ignore that time around. On a normal day, if a feeling like that came about, I would have abandoned my quest and stayed wrapped up in bed, listening to my mind when it said “It’s just a lipstick, Camryn,” and “You’re going to be there again on Tuesday, anyway,”. But on that particular date, I was able to come up with an excuse to dismiss every single reason not to ever leave the safety of my apartment, such as “Yeah, but it’s my favorite lipstick and goes perfectly with the dress I’m wearing tonight,” and “Packing up the dressing room will take less time if most of my little trinkets and things are already gone,”.

So, following my destiny as it seemed, I donned a shift dress and my favorite cream sunhat, stepping into the buzz of New York City and strolling down 60th Street with my favorite music pulsing through my ears as I assured myself that I didn’t have a care in the world.

Fate struck again when I glanced down at my cell phone and realized that it was noon and I had yet to eat, so I ducked into a nearby deli for a prosciutto sandwich on focaccia and a fruit cup, taking advantage of the establishment’s charming outdoor seating area, placing my purse on the chair opposite mine and lazily observing the scenery as I sipped my water bottle.

Little did I know, that “charming outdoor seating area” gave me one of the best views in the city for what happened next.

I had just swallowed a delectable bite of my sandwich when the sky opened up, causing me to choke.

“You all right, lady?” A young man with a skateboard under his arm and a thick Northeastern accent questioned as I desperately tried to quiet my coughing. I nodded, managing a slight smile as I dabbed at my eyes with my napkin, turning my attention to what was currently happening above me. A jagged circle had appeared in the perfectly clear sky, framed by a pulsing, electric blue force. The innards of the shape were the color of the night sky, with what appeared to be distant stars breaking the darkness.

But New Yorkers were not easily fazed. After living in the city for four years and counting, I had seen it all, and so had everyone around me. Many did not even pause in their daily tasks to pay the strange apparition a second glance, and those that looked only did so because they assumed it was some sort of major advertising stunt or an early Fourth of July aerial display.

“Wonder what this show’ll be,” the young man from before commented, cell phone camera already pointed absentmindedly towards the phenomenon, shoulder-length hair swaying with his every motion. “And more importantly, how they got the projection to be that vivid.”

“That is a mystery, indeed,” I agreed, pushing up the brim of my hat for a better view of the sky, waiting for the purpose of the display to show itself. But as I finished off my sandwich, consumed the contents of my cherry and peach fruit cup, and reapplied my faded lip color, it remained unchanged.

My interest lost, I stood up to throw my empty containers away and continued down the streets towards the theatre, pushing through gawking tourists with an intense annoyance and desire to be at home to begin my preparations for a company dinner party I was to attend that night. However, I had just mounted the steps to Lincoln Center when the display began, a stream of robotic creatures pouring out of the gaping hole in the sky, weapons poised and at the ready, heads turning in furtive observation. The young man from the cafe came skidding by on his skateboard, a smile of wonderment lighting up his narrow face.

“Wicked,” he gasped, shooting me a thumbs-up with the hand not clutching his camera. “Those are some crazy lifelike visuals.”

But little did he know, the poor boy no older than twenty, that the visuals weren’t visuals at all, but reality. One of the gruesomely futuristic creatures aimed its weapon in our direction and a thin blast of bright blue light sliced through the air, hitting the skateboarder directly in the chest and knocking him to the ground, creating a giant crater in the concrete and bursting a pipe in the fountain, sending my hat flying off my head and into a tree.

Gasping, I scurried over to him, pushing his mousy hair hair aside to reveal wide grey eyes, staring eternally up at nothing. With my entire body shuddering and my mouth agape in shock, I attempted to slide his eyes closed with trembling hands, making a choked sound between a scream and a gasp as they popped right back open. I plopped rather ungracefully back onto my heels, fingers covering my lips as my teeth chattered with the force of my shaking.

With my vision blurred and my mind numb, I didn’t take any notice to the creatures circling me until another blast hit the pavement to my right, sending the cap of a pothole spinning over my head. A heavyset policeman noticed my state and came barrelling over, securing his meaty arm around my shoulders and dragging me roughly to my feet.  
“Get inside, now!” he instructed, panting. “Don’t come out until we get you.”

I didn’t have to be told twice. On my orders, I sprinted around to the back entrance of the theatre, fumbling about in my purse for my performer’s pass and jamming it against the scanner, shoving the glass door open with my shoulder. Immediately after being engulfed in the heavily air-conditioned threshold, I stole down the staircase to the basement, tripping over my feet and nearly tumbling down nose-first at least three times.

After what seemed to be an eternity, I reached the comfortable, familiar corridor that led to the dressing rooms, the drab whitewashed walls that normally dampened my mood sending a flood of relief through my veins. I slowed my pace, retrieving my keys as I paused at the fourth door on the left, unlocking the room that I shared with three other girls.  
As I entered, I collapsed down on my whimsically vintage dressing chair, closing my eyes and forcing myself to breathe deeply, cleansing my mind. Biting my lip, I turned to the scratched counter under the mirror and began to search around my carefully organized things for something that could be used to defend myself. I eventually decided on a large pair of sewing shears and an old taser my parents bought for me when I moved to the City, something paranoia demanded that I always have, flipping the switch to charge the weapon with energy.

After slumping on the chair for a while to calm down and collect my thoughts, I realized that if one of those grotesque creatures were to enter the theatre and discover me down in the basement, I would be trapped. I needed to get myself to a higher level. I clenched my fists and tied my hair back into a ponytail before forcing myself to return to the stairwell, scissors and stun gun poised in the optimum position for defense. 

I thought I was in the clear when I reached the foyer, with its luxurious red carpets, marble fixtures, and sculptures worth a fortune, and was readied to mount the grand staircase when I noticed a soft tapping at the glass doors. I reluctantly turned, my blood running cold, and discovered one of those robotic warriors experimentally jabbing at the handle with the cruel tip of its hybrid weapon. Fear returning to the pit of my stomach, I abandoned my quest to reach an upper floor, ducking behind a copper statue of Apollo and narrowly avoiding being pummeled by a rainstorm of glass as the creature blasted the door open, stalking over the threshold. It turned its head about as if it was using scent to track, then started up the steps with sharp, almost ape-like movements.

My breathing was so ragged and heavy that I was sure it could hear me, but as I clasped my hand over my mouth to silence it, dust from the rubble filled my nose and brought a tickling sensation about my face. Even though it was the quietest sneeze of my life, the tiny, choked sound in my throat was heard to the warrior. It jerked around, leaning over the railing of the staircase and spotting me, tilting its head back and releasing the most awful sound, a mixture of what I could only describe as the cry of a dying eagle and nails on a blackboard.

Sending a silent prayer that my extensive knowledge of the building would be enough to escape, I dashed from my hiding place to duck behind the bar, tugging open the door to the staff corridors and sprinting to the backstage door. I kicked that open and shoved my way into an area that normally brought me excitement and comfort, glancing around in a panic for a means of escape, tears streaming down my cheeks and sobs rising in my throat as I realized that I may have just trapped myself even more than I already was.

The warrior, though crude, was more intelligent than I had originally assumed, and had managed to follow me, aiming its weapon and sending sparks flying. I managed to roll out of the way and cause a boom light to fall victim instead, and in my action I landed in front of something that could help me get away. Muscles burning from a lack of oxygen, I frantically mounted the ladder that led to the flies, but the creature was in hot pursuit. 

I tore across the airborne walkway, all the while feeling the warrior’s strangely cold breath on my neck and hearing its wheezing breaths. Eventually it jutted out its weapon out and tripped me, the force of the fall throwing me over the side and causing me to have to seize the railing to avoid plummeting to my death. Wasting no time, seeing as though I was dangling thirty feet in the air, I began to inch my way to safety by sliding my hands across the sticky black metal, summoning up my elementary school monkey bar skills and hoping they would come through. 

I finally reached the stage right ladder and scurried down to the ground level, knocking about as many large props, boom lights, and wings as I could to confuse the warrior and buy myself some time, beelining for the rope control panel and reaching out to drop the main curtain with shaking hands. Kicking one last chair in the creature’s way, I sprinted out onstage and jumped into the orchestra pit as the golden velvet rippled to the floor, the creature assuming it was trapped long enough for me to leave the auditorium and scamper up the stairs, emerging out onto the roof and crumbling into a heap on the pigeon-occupied concrete, dissolving into hysterics.

A period of time passed that easily could have been two seconds or two hours until the door burst off of its hinges and I was once again face-to-face with the warrior. After one last cry of fear, I found my head and remembered the defense mechanisms that had been pocketed in the madness. Not moving from my position on the ground, I aimed my taser and fired, but instead of the electricity rendering the creature unconscious or at the very least confusing it, it only seemed to provide it and its weapon with more power. It started towards me slowly, as if savoring the moment, and I pushed myself further and further away until my spine came in jarring contact with the hard, unforgiving edge of the building.

“No. No, no, no,” I whimpered to myself as I tried to think; come up with any method of escape; but any and all solutions eluded me and I realized how completely and utterly trapped I was.

“Please, just let it be quick,” I whispered, turning my head away and squinting my eyes closed, but a jolt went through me as I was suddenly clutched up against a body of metal and flying through the air. I almost began to scream in horror until I cracked an eye open and discovered that the iron I was clutched against was not the silver of the enemy, but a rich red of what seemed to be a friend.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” a surprisingly human voice from inside the suit assured, and I nodded, my teeth chattering as my entire body was racked with tremors of fear.

My savior deposited me onto the sidewalk, shouting “Get off the streets and into the subway!” before blasting away and disappearing behind a parking garage.

But my shock at the state of things around me delayed my following through on that order. I made a slow promenade of observation, and discovered that those grotesque creatures were everywhere, humanoid ones fighting on the ground, terrorizing citizens and almost jesting with police officials that tried in vain to contain their threat. A large, serpent-like regiment circled the skies, flanked by warriors perched upon hovercrafts, deliberately throwing themselves into buildings and setting fire to structures with their laser blasts. My beautiful city was in ruins that could not possibly be repaired, and the thought brought tears anew to my eyes. I headed for the subway station in defeat, but the frantic feeling of fright and fight was restored within me as one of the warriors dropped before me on the concrete steps, restricting me from entering. Letting loose a short scream of terror, I turned on my heel and retraced my steps, entering Central Park and seeking safety in its lush vegetation.

I ran as hard as I could until I reached a cafe near the ballparks, where a white-haired clerk pushed open the door, calling out to me.

“In here, miss,” he offered, and I gladly accepted, allowing myself to be waved inside and sat in a corner along with at least ten other citizens, one of which was a little boy no older than eight, donning a baseball cap and curled up to his mother’s bosom, ruddy face glimmering with tear stains and mucus as he glanced at me with wide blue eyes, clearly hoping for some reassurance that we were safe.

It was then I realized my responsibility as an adult in that situation: to remain calm and collected, and bring comfort to the minds of those that were younger and more fragile. Desperately trying to halt the tremors that rattled my body, I reached into my purse for my compact mirror, studying my ghastly reflection. My skin was shining with sweat and my foundation was clumped and uneven from tears, mascara and eyeliner ran down the length of my face in grey-black streaks, and my rosy pink lipstick was smeared clear to my cheekbone. I looked an awful fright, so I retrieved a tissue and wiped away all of the excess and out of place makeup, employing all of the muscles in my arm to prevent my hands from shaking. That definitely soothed the boy, though, and he leaned forward to address me in a broken bell of a voice.

“Are things bad out there?” he whimpered.

“No, not at all,” I assured in the most comforting voice I could muster, and his mother’s face flooded with relief as she passed along her silent thanks, spurring me on in my speech. “They’re really looking up. And the good guys- the ones that are helping us- they’re winning, and soon enough, they’re going to come and get us all out of here and back home safe-”

I did not even finish my sentence before an enormous blast hit the building, much wider and more powerful than the ones I had encountered before. It reduced the cafe to rubble and sent me flying through the air, a jagged piece of wood streaking by and drawing a glistening red gash down the length of my arm. I hit the ground at least one hundred feet away, the back of my head rebounding hard against a rock, instantly drawing blood.

Whimpering in pain and delirious from the emotional rollercoaster I had experienced in the past hour, I pulled myself to my feet and began to dizzily search the area for the boy and his mother, but they were nowhere to be found. Just as I began to sob at the thought of all that had happened, my quest was interrupted when I realized that I was being circled by the one that wielded the weapon with the more powerful blasts, though his face was obstructed by the bottom of the hovercraft he rode and all I could make out was a glint of gold.

I ducked under a lush tree, hoping that the heavy cover of leaves would conceal me from his sight, but he only zoomed closer to the ground. I spotted the insect-like tip of a scepter radiating with energy from a blue gem in the center being aimed in my direction, so I slithered over to the opposite side of the trunk, only to be rendered face-to-face with yet another robotic warrior.

I barely had time to realize I was trapped before both weapons were fired, each hitting me in the same spot, one entering through the front, the other through the back. My body instantly went numb, save the feeling of electricity pulsing through my veins, and I swayed in my tracks for a moment, glancing down and discovering that the front of my white dress was reduced to the charred color of ashes, a perfect circle burnt through the center.

Finally, my legs crumbled underneath me, and as I hit the ground the pain began. It felt as if I had two burning swords being repeatedly shoved into my body, and I was paralyzed by the sheer strength of it. My vision blurred and I began to gasp and pant, but each breath I took amplified the sharp sensations more. I could practically feel Death’s hand closing around my throat.

I tried to fight. I wanted to fight. But I could not see, I could not hear, and I could not move. All I was conscious of was the swords in my spine and the sickening feeling of my blood slowly leaving my body. 

I don’t know how long I laid there, in the soft green grass of Central Park. It could have been five seconds, it could have been five hours. Though none of that mattered, because in the end, I loosened my grip on the world of the living and let myself fall under the blissfully warm wing of oblivion.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned of some fairly graphic depictions of wounds.

Gold. Everything was gold.

Am I dead? I thought. Is this heaven?

I felt as if I was floating on a cloud, though I soon realized that it was just the most comfortable and inviting bed I had ever laid on. A coarse fur was pulled up to my chin atop many layers of silk, and a glowing field surrounded my body like some some sort of holographic coffin.

I blinked rapidly to clear the fog from my vision, and glanced around the room. It was cavernous and round, the ceiling soaring higher than I ever could have imagined. And gold, everywhere. The color bled into floor, the walls, the ornately carved double doors, the bedframe, even the small lamps that lit the area. The chambers contained no other furniture save the bed where I laid, which for an unknown reason sent an eerie feeling coursing throughout my leaden body.

That had to be the afterlife. There was no other explanation. But if it was, how did I get there? How did I die?

I moved to sit up, but a sharp wave of pain shot through my torso, blinding me with its intensity. I fell back against the goldspun sheets with a hiss of discomfort, and I remembered.

Robotic aliens. Attacking. Running. Hiding. A glint of gold. A blast of blue. Then… nothing.

I was definitely dead.

Before a panicky cocktail of emotions could take hold of my senses, I noticed a rapid beeping next to my ear. Reluctant to move again, I turned only my head to locate the source of the sound, but discovered nothing but a pulsing orb of orange light.

“Since when is heaven so annoying?” I muttered to myself, voice cracking and throat raw from lack of use, wincing as the action brought back the ache in my stomach. “And painful?”

I moved to place my hands over my ears to block the noise, but was once again paralyzed by pain. I glanced down and noticed my entire right arm, from wrist to mid-bicep, covered in gauze and bandages. With my left hand, I attempted to pull the wrappings away to peek at the wound, but they were too secure to budge, so I abandoned that quest and set to observing what I was wearing, which was very different from what I had supposedly died in.

Someone had put me in a gold satin nightgown, clasped down the front with pearl buttons. The sleeves were of a cap style so to, I assumed, have better access to the bandages on my arm, and when I shifted my feet under the thick covers of the bed, I discovered that the garment fell all the way to my ankles.

“What is this place?” I whispered. “And what is that beeping?”

Eventually I was able to tune the noise out, but that only made me pick up voices from behind the doors, both hushed and female, with gentle accents.

“-has finally awoken,” one was saying in a rich timbre, tone suggesting either respect or submission, possibly both. “Do I have your leave to enter and go about my duties with her?”

“No, not yet,” a second voice said, warm and comforting. “This girl is worlds away from her home. She has been through a great amount of trauma, and she will be distressed and confused. It might do her good to have a motherly figure at her side to explain everything, rather than a dutiful one.”

“Yes, my queen,” the first voice murmured.

Queen?

“Oh, Brenna, I don’t mean to insult you.” the second voice grew a bit louder, more insistent. “I have no doubt that you would be able to explain everything beautifully without upsetting her. However, our technology is far more advanced and our medical methods are a great deal different than what she’s used to. It might cushion the blow if she has knowledge of it first.”

What were they talking about?

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” Departing footsteps were the last thing I heard of the original speaker, and suddenly, the doors to my room were opening. I panicked for a moment, scrambling to sit up despite the pain shooting through my body, weak arms trembling under my weight.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to see, but once the supposed queen was revealed, I was taken aback by her beauty and presence. Even though her dress was simple and she was donning no crown nor even jewels, her aura and stature made it very obvious that she was royalty.

Her gown was a deep royal blue, with a bateau neckline and sleeves that fluttered down to the wrists with a slight flare, a line of sapphires at the seams giving it a subtle glimmer when she moved. Her hair, tumbling down to her waist in perfect waves, seemed to be weaved from gold, and her face was slightly aged yet at the same time had a youthful, preserved quality.

"Hello," she greeted quietly, slowly approaching the bed. "I see you're awake."

"I'm dead, aren't I?" I blurted. "This is the afterlife?"

She chuckled lightly, the sound echoing through the room, perching herself on the side of the mattress. "No. You're not dead."

"Then where am I? What is this place?"

"How much do you remember of the day you were wounded?" The woman tilted her head slightly, studying me intently with knowing blue eyes.

"Well, um...everything, I think."

"Are you familiar with the creatures that wreaked havoc on the city?"

"I mean, yes, I remember them, but I've no idea what they were."

"They’re called the Chitauri, and they were an army led by my youngest son, who has, unfortunately, had quite a few poor experiences in his life and went rather wayward. Towards the end of the attack, you were caught between the blasts of a Chitauri firearm and my son's scepter, both powered by a highly coveted unlimited energy source called the Tesseract, which is an extremely powerful and dangerous artifact stolen from our weapons vault many a decade ago. You were, and still are, severely injured by the blast. Luckily, when my eldest son, who was part of a group that defeated my youngest and his army, returned from delivering his brother home in chains to assist with rescue and cleanup efforts, he discovered you, barely alive, and brought you here for care and recovery."

"And..." I cleared my throat, bracing myself for the answer I was about to receive. "Where is here, exactly?"

"This is Asgard, and I am Frigga, Allmother and queen of the realm."

"Wait." I struggled to sit up despite the pain. "Asgard, as in the Norse myths and the comic books?"

"Here, let me." Frigga rearranged my pillows so that they could better support my frame and assisted me on sliding up to recline onto them. "And I don't know what these comic books you're speaking of are, but the myths, yes, but with a few differences. Things tend to get lost and altered in translation over the years."

"Well, I guess if aliens attacked New York City, the idea that the Norse myths are real and that I'm in a completely different world isn't terribly far-fetched." I huffed, sure that all of this had me in shock and that I would begin to completely lose my senses in disbelief once it wore off. "But why did your son bring me here for care? Why didn't he just drop me off at a hospital with everyone else that got hurt?"

"Well, ah..." Frigga took a deep breath, the reflection from the jewels on her gown spinning about the glowing walls like the turn of a kaleidoscope. "You were brought here because you were emitting a...a magical trace, as well as that of the tesseract's energy. While the trace from the tesseract is explainable as residue from the blast, the magic is not easily as so. While we're sure it is just a side effect of the wound, we wanted to bring you here for observation, as well, just to be certain."

"O-oh."

"Don't be afraid of it." Frigga placed her hand on my uninjured arm. "In fact, those energies within you most likely saved your life. You should have died in seconds after that blast, but you sustained life for hours."

"How long have I been here?" I inquired.

"You've been comatose for a month," Frigga answered, empathy shining in her sapphire eyes.

"A month?" I gasped. "I- I need to go home. No offense to you or anything here, but I need to leave as soon as possible."

"Once you've fully recovered from your wounds, which will take much time, as you must understand, you may be permitted leave."

"May?" I echoed. "It's only a possibility?"

"I'm not the one that makes these decisions. My husband, the king, is responsible for that. You are the first mortal to ever set foot on Asgard, so that makes you a liability. He may want to keep you here, but it is very unlikely that the situation will come to that."

"No, I need to go home!" I insisted. "I have a- a job, one that I actually happen to love; a family, who will be freaking out and looking for me, worrying themselves sick; and two cats and a puppy at home! They need me!"

"Calm." Frigga's fingers brushed my forehead lightly, causing a jolt to go through my body where all anxious feelings left me and were replaced with a drowsy serenity. "If you continue to move like that, you'll anger your wounds. Everything will work out the way it's meant to. I put a spell put on everyone you were ever involved with, making it as if you never existed."

“So if I actually do get to go back, it will be useless anyway because no one will have any memory of me at all?” I argued weakly, fighting the apparent charm that had been placed on me.

"When you go back, time will be reversed to the day the spell was cast, and the magic will be revoked. Everything will continue on its set course,” Frigga assured. “Now, since you're awake, you need to be looked at and your wounds need to be tended to by one of the palace healers. May I bring her in?"

I nodded slowly, finally giving into the feeling of all my muscles relaxing and my form sinking into the bed.

"Alright. I won’t be but a moment." The queen left me in solitude for a brief amount of time, and returned with a young woman in tow.

Her garb was a simple powder blue gown, free of any sort of ornamentation, pressed to perfection. Her wild ebony curls were tied back at the nape of her neck with a strip of leather, and the golden tones of the room reflected in her nut-brown skin, giving it a warm glow.

"This is Brenna," Frigga introduced, motioning for the girl to come closer. "She is the youngest healer employed in the palace, and our best. She was tasked with your care."  
"So you're the one that saved my life, essentially," I concluded.

"You could say as much." Brenna approached the bed, taking the once-beeping orange orb in hand, tossing it upwards so that it grew and scattered, and a fluid current of tangerine light floated above my body, with many moving shapes collecting on the sides, which I soon realized were monitors of a sort.

"I suppose a thank-you is in order, then." I watched as Brenna moved from monitor to monitor, altering their form, tapping something here and there, expanding things and rotating them about, then flicking her fingers to get rid of it when she was finished.

"I was merely doing my duty." Brenna flashed me a small smile, then made the glow disappear completely. "Everything is normal, my queen. There's no sign of infection, and her vital signs are constant as ever."

"Well, then, I suppose all there's left to do is change her bandages and your work will be finished for today." Frigga beamed. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I've something to attend to. Camryn?"

"Yes?" I replied.

"Welcome to Asgard. I'm so sorry you had to come here this way."

Once Frigga had left the room, Brenna pulled my covers away and settled on the side of the bed, setting off to remove the gauze and bandages secured to my arm.

"So," I began awkwardly, breaking the tense silence. "You've been taking care of me for a month."

"Something like that," she murmured, intently focused on her task. "You've been a good patient. Once your condition was stable, there was nothing much to do except monitor you and change your dressings. We had you under constant observation for about a week, but it soon became apparent that you weren't waking anytime soon, so we installed an alarm to alert us if anything changed."

I sucked in a breath as the bandaging was removed completely, revealing a deep red gash that snaked its way up the side of my arm, skin tugged together by an army of thick black stitches.

"It's curious," I remarked, watching as Brenna discarded the soiled wrappings and reached into a wooden case resting on the floor next to her, removing fresh rolls of bandage and gauze, two silver jars, and a handful of short, thin rods of wood, the top halves completely covered in cotton. "I got that cut a month ago, and it still looks fresh."

"That is a puzzling matter," she agreed, removing the lid of one of the jars and swilling one of the wooden sticks into its depths, coating it in the thick white paste. "While the tesseract's energy and magic sustained your life, it also prevented your wounds from healing; kept them open. My theory is that the energy entered your bloodstream, and in the process created some sort of block, not allowing the healing cells to reach the wounds. Then, seeing as you laid on the ground in one of the dirtiest cities in all of Midgard for at least six hours, infection took hold, which, thanks to our advanced medical technology, we were able to leach it out without you having to lose your arm. Afterward we realized that the infection was beneficial, because with it also came out the energy, and the healing process was allowed to start." Brenna coated my wound with the paste, sending a burning sensation throughout my arm, then allowed it to dry before spreading a clear white jelly on top.

"So there's no energy or magic left in my body at all?"

"There's no way to be sure," Brenna admitted, sealing the fresh layer of gauze to my skin, assisting me in sitting forward, unfastening the buttons of my nightgown and letting it fall from my form. "But this is our real concern."

Whoever dressed me was kind enough to pull a thin little layer of underclothes over my breasts, but the entirety of my torso below that was swaddled in bandaging. With deft and gentle fingers, Brenna began to unwrap them, layer by layer, until they fell away completely, the cool air from the room hitting it suddenly, sending knives of pain shooting out around the area. The skin furthest around the wound was a flushed pink, the color growing deeper and deeper closer to the wound until it was a shade of angry red I never thought skin could be, and then suddenly changed to rings of charred grey and black, lining a gaping circular hole, bloody red inside and so deep that it nearly made me sick to look at, paired with a long, thin scar that ran the length of my entire torso.

"Your back looks the same," Brenna informed, not fazed in the slightest, calmly applying the paste and jelly to the fresh wrappings instead of directly on the wound. "It won't scar. We're already starting to spread a prevention salve around the wounds, and once they close you'll be given a cream to help them go away completely. It will take quite a bit of time, though."

"H-how am I alive?" Disregarding everything she had just said, I stared at my souvenir of that fateful day in awe. "With two blasts hitting me from opposite sides of my body, there's no place for an exit wound. My insides should be fried; charred to ashes."

Brenna began to wrap me back up, not meeting my eyes once. "Magic is a very powerful thing."

She said no more on the subject.

Once I was completely taken care of, Brenna knelt down and pressed something on the bed frame that elevated my feet, then procured a glass of water and emptied the contents of a small vial into it, handing it to me and instructing me to drink.

"It's to help with the pain," she explained, taking the cup back once I had obeyed. "It will cause intense drowsiness, and I suggest giving in and resting while it's easy."

Before I could inquire as to what that meant, my healer was gone, and all I could do was collapse onto the pillows and fall into the seemingly deepest sleep of my life.

***

I awoke to the intoxicating aroma of warm bread and butter, and it was the most heavenly thing I could've ever dreamed of.

I slowly peeled my heavy eyelids back and discovered Frigga settled into a golden chair with red velvet cushions that had been pulled up to the side of my bed, a platter of food spread across her lap.

"Did you sleep well?" She inquired conversationally, rising from her seat. "I've brought you something to eat, if you're hungry."

"Thank you." I shifted slightly so that I could take the tray, observing what I had been brought: a small loaf of steaming bread and a dish of creamy butter, a bowl of broth with a few herbs sprinkled on top, and a full-to-the brim water pitcher and glass. "Do you know the time?"

"It's about eight 'o'clock in the evening," Frigga replied as I raised the spoon to my mouth. "That's pheasant broth, by the way. I know that you don't eat much of that particular bird on Midgard, so I believed it might be a good idea to inform you."

"It tastes like chicken," I teased, giggling slightly, but immediately halted at the pain it caused. "May I ask you a question?"

"Anything. I understand that this is all very new and confusing, so I would like to do anything in my power to make it less so."

"If you're the queen, why are you looking after me so much? You could simply pretend I don't exist, and send servants to bring me my meals and explain things. And to add to that, I'm not royalty, and therefore inferior to you. Surely you have better things to do with your time. Why do I matter so much to you? Is it just because of the magic that I may or may not have?"

"No. It's not. And I'll not have you objectified in that way." Frigga sighed heavily, averting her gaze as she returned to her chair. "It appears I have quite a weakness for lost beings, particularly for taking them in, taking care of them, and giving them a home. When my son brought you to me, nearly dead, I realized that your world was going to be turned completely upside down, if it wasn’t already. You were going to be thrust into an environment that everyone in your life has said is fictional, endure a brutal recovery process from an injury that you never should’ve have been able to survive, and you would be worlds away from home, without any familiar companionship to assist you through these tribulations. I took it upon myself to be your foster family.

“I was not born royal, and my marriage to the king was arranged. He was a deal older than I was, and always away, fighting battles that I was kept out of. It took quite some time for a connection to form, and when I went to seek out friendship, everyone was either terrified of me because of my position, or only using me for their own personal gain. I was utterly alone, scared, and in the middle of all that I had to learn how to be a queen and a goddess, even though my husband and everyone else of power looked down on me as nothing but an object. My sons were my relief from all of that. They gave me purpose, and they were my best friends. Now it has just become a sort of habit with me, taking souls in a similar situation under my wing.”

“Well, I can’t thank you enough for all of this. Without you, I definitely would’ve been very distressed. I wouldn’t be able to accept that all of this is real, and I would’ve felt as if I was in a prison, desperate to escape. My anxiety would’ve gotten the better of me, and I would’ve undone all of the effort you went to saving my life.”

“I’m glad that didn’t happen.” Frigga laid her warm hand over mine, which displayed an enormous golden wedding ring, practically dripping in diamonds. “Now, I wanted to ask you. My son- the one that brought you here- has been very eager to meet you, and was overjoyed when he was informed that you were awake at last. Would you mind if I brought him in?”

“Not at all,” I replied, setting the empty broth bowl aside. “I have a feeling that it will be difficult to make friends here, so I might as well try whilst both parties are willing.”  
Frigga flashed me the same look of understanding that had been tattooed on her face during our entire conversation, rising from her seat and leaving the room, door echoing behind her as it closed. When it opened again, it was not her who returned, but a large, burly man with hair the exact same shade as hers, dressed in black leather pants and boots along with a silver breastplate, clutching a large bouquet of sunflowers to his broad chest.

“Hello,” I greeted timidly, sitting up as far as I was able. “Are you Frigga’s son?”

“I am not identified as Frigga’s son often, but I think I quite like being addressed as such,” he intoned in a deep, resounding bass, approaching the bed with slow, long steps, dwarfing the ornate chair with his muscular form when he sat, regarding me carefully with electric blue eyes. “I am Thor, prince of Asgard.”

“I should have guessed,” I murmured to myself, remembering the earlier connections to myth and comic I made to comprehend that all of these impossible things were reality. “I’m Camryn.”

“I’m pleased to at last make a proper acquaintance.” Thor suddenly remembered the stems clutched in his hand. “Ah. These are for you.”

I took the large yellow blooms and propped them upright with my good arm, dipping my head and engulfing myself in their sweet fragrance. “These should brighten up the room. The gold is lovely, but when there’s nothing else in here besides my bed, it tends to be a bit… unsettling.”

“Aye, these private healing chambers are not something one wants to remain in long,” Thor agreed. “I spent a fair amount of time in them during my youth.”

“Injuries from fighting battles?” I guessed.

“Yes. It is a rite of passage for a prince.” Thor cleared his throat. “But I went to the deepest depths of the royal gardens to select the perfect flowers for your bedside. I instructed the royal gardeners to trim the healthiest and most hearty of blooms, and then to arrange them in the most beautiful way possible.”

“And I thank you a thousand times over, and not just for the flowers.” I inhaled sharply as I placed the blooms aside, wincing as my injuries protested. “If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead. I will be forever indebted to you, and I owe you my life.”

“I was merely fulfilling my duty as a warrior. Nothing is owed, here I’m just thankful that our healers were able to save you.” Thor chuckled slightly and I allowed myself to smile along, but once the gentle laughter faded, an awkward silence wrapped its heavy cloak about us.

“Oh, um, you’ve got a leaf in your beard,” I noticed, and Thor felt his way about his neatly trimmed facial hair with futile effort, until I finally reached over and removed it, and we engaged in another bout of tense laughter.

“I was told that it was my brother; the one that hurt you.”

“He wasn’t the only one,” I admitted, glancing down at my bandaged arm. “But yes, he contributed.”

“In all the years we’ve been alive, it’s always been him apologizing for my actions, but now that situation is apparently reversed.” Thor’s voice suddenly became exhausted and strained, and his figure hunched. “Much has happened to him in the past few years. He was always mischievous, but more than enough bad experiences have ripped my brother out and replaced him with something else… a- a monster. I know that I was part of the reason he became that way, so I took it upon myself to bring him, the real him, back, but as time goes on I am beginning to believe that it is impossible. Who he used to be was destroyed.”

“What all happened to him? What made him that way?” I inquired.

Thor smiled sadly. “That is a taxing tale for another time.”

“That bad?”

He nodded, but his tone grew very foreboding as he forward as much as the chair would allow, eyes boring into mine, a strange intensity behind them.

“I love my brother dearly, I really do,” he insisted, “but I must warn you. He has changed from what I knew him as to a complete stranger. He’s dangerous to anyone that encounters him. He is extremely unpredictable. For your own safety, I highly suggest avoiding him. My brother learns from his mistakes, and if the mood strikes him for any reason, he will try to kill you again, and I can’t help but think that this time he would succeed.”


	3. Chapter Two

I never dreamed that I would ever experience such difficulty sleeping in my entire life.

The dose of sleeping draught given to me earlier had completely worn off, and the pain raged through my body like wildfire. To top that off, the position my recovery process compelled me to stay in was horribly uncomfortable and gave me the backache of a lifetime, though Brenna made it quite clear that my condition made it unwise for me to move to a more inviting pose. At one point, I became so frustrated and distressed that I burst into tears, triggering an alarm and sending the young healer rushing to my room in her nightgown.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered piteously, placing my unbandaged hand over my eyes. “I didn’t know that would happen.”

“It’s perfectly alright. It was installed to alert us of your discomfort, which is obviously appropriate in this instance.” She took a small vial from the pocket of her nightclothes. “I’m assuming you’d like some of this.”

I accepted the second dose of sleeping draught with pleasure and willingly fell into a dreamless slumber.

***

The next morning I awoke in the midst of Brenna examining me. My mouth felt as if it was stuffed to the brim with cotton, and due to my irregular schedule and missing a month of my life, my thoughts were clouded and my brain seemed to be in a constant dream.

“What’s going on?” I murmured to myself, lips and eyes swollen, burying my face my pillow to shield it from the light.

“Come again?” Brenna requested, dropping onto the mattress to change my dressings.

I had suddenly forgotten what I said just before, and instead stared at her with blank confusion.

“I think it’s time that we get you out of this room,” she concluded. “There’s not much you can do, but I think we’ll take you for a bath and perhaps stop by the library to find you some means of entertainment.”

My heart jumped with a feeble excitement. “How soon can we go?”

Once my morning care routine concluded, Brenna left briefly and came back pushing something resembling a wheelchair, but much more advanced in technology. It was, to no surprise, golden, round in shape, inlaid with thick, plush cushions, with wide armrests harboring a flat, digital control panel. Its main feature, however, was the fact that the chair possessed no wheels, and hovered about half a foot off the ground, suspended in midair. If I wasn’t so outside of myself, I might have been extremely fascinated by it.

“You haven’t stood in weeks,” Brenna reminded as she approached the bed and pulled back the covers. “You instability will be considerable, so go slowly, and don’t be afraid to use me for support.”

I reached out and took her offered arm, rising on the shaking legs of a filly and crumbling almost immediately, my head swimming.

“I think I’m going to retch,” I gasped, shielding my mouth.

“You’re alright,” Brenna soothed, taking a slow step and encouraging me to follow. “The chair isn’t far away.”

My forehead was damp with a cold sweat and my form was trembling and aching by the time Brenna eased me back onto the cushions, the slightest movement bringing a stabbing pain rippling through my wounds. I tried to lean forward to soothe my nausea but that just made the pain worse, so I settled for resting my head on the back of the chair and closing my eyes, gladly accepting the cold cloth Brenna pressed to my forehead, but allowing it to slide into my blanketed lap as she pushed me from the room.

I wasn’t entirely sure what I expected to see in the rest of the palace, but my small healing chambers did not do it a sliver of justice. For a moment I was sure that I had been lied to when I was told that I wasn’t dead, and that I was really and truly in heaven.

The doors were at least fifteen feet high and about a foot thick, leading me to judge that they must have weighed far too much for petite Brenna to manage. However, she merely turned the flattened disc of a knob the size of my head and gave them a slight push, and they parted smoothly, sinking into the hinges with a low, resounding bang. However, I had no time to marvel at how that happened, because the moment I crossed the threshold, I was overwhelmed with what I beheld.

The first thing to stun me was the sheer size of the corridor. I could have laid down vertically with my feet against the west wall and my head towards the east, flip over myself five times, and still have breathing room in the width of the hall, which extended seemingly eternally, until it rounded out on both sides and concealed itself from my sight. However, the doors were only on the left side of the corridor, for the right wall was shortened, creating a plain, unornamented balcony that I could’ve seen over with ease if I was standing and closer.

The hall was relatively free of decoration, aside from the doors that were works of abstract art and a design resembling a runic alphabet surrounded by elegant curlicues etched into the floor. Bright white sunlight streamed in from over the balcony, assisted in its illumination by tall, coal-black, flaming braziers, equidistant from one door to another. Their stands were carved into the shape of crows, clutching the support rod of the fixture in their granite claws, glittering onyx eyes staring at me ominously, as if the sculpted creatures could see directly into my soul.

It was quiet, too, though peacefully. I could make out the gushing of a fountain from below, the distant, hearty strumming of a string instrument accompanied by a sweet voice, a muffled cough from behind one of the army of shut doors the only sharp sound for what seemed to be miles.

The scent was heavenly, too, and I assumed that I was near a dining room or kitchen, for, muddled with the fresh air was the intoxicating aroma of fresh bread and cheese, along with a sort of red meat, and a dessert dish that made me realize I was ravenous.

“What is this place?” I whispered, my words slurred and nearly indecipherable.

“This is the medical wing of the palace,” Brenna replied, chipper. “There’s not currently a large war in process at the moment, so it’s relatively empty. That’s why it’s so quiet.”

“No, I murmured almost drunkenly, clumsy hand finding the chair’s control panel and wheeling it around in a wide arc. My vision blurred and a strong, intense heat bubbled up behind my forehead and on the back of my neck, and I seemed to float right out of my body. “This- this can’t be real. I was lied to. I really am dead. I’m dead and this is heaven, and… oh, god…”

Black spots danced before my eyes until they enlarged and engulfed my sight completely, my ears began to ring, and the impossible world around me dissolved until all was blank.

 

The next thing I knew, I was facedown on the floor, my cheek stuck to the cool surface, the taste of iron filling my mouth.

“Are you alright?” Brenna inquired, sounding slightly bemused, bustling over and taking me by the arm, easing me back into the chair.

“No,” I replied, my tone biting and sharp as I slumped over, head in my hands. “You’re all lying to me. I’m actually dead. Everybody go home now, the show’s over. I know.”

“I promise we’re not lying to you,” she assured, taking a handkerchief from the pocket of her gown and dabbing at my lip where my teeth had split it in my tumble to the ground.  
“Yes, and I’m just supposed to believe that I’m in the palace of some make-believe, fairy-tale land from mythology? I’m not that gullible.”

“I know it’s difficult to believe, but it’s the truth.” Brenna glanced down at me with sympathy gleaming in her russet eyes. “However, it will take time to set in. I was hoping you wouldn’t need to, but drink this, and it should help ease the process along.”

“What is it?” I inquired, taking yet another serving-sized vial into my grasp.

“A mild sedative to calm your nerves, along with a special concoction of my own creation. It will work wonders on your mind, causing it to calm itself so that it can open and help you accept all that has happened and where you are. It’s perfectly safe; there will be no damage to your brain.”

Wanting to soothe myself but hesitant all the same, I gulped down the tasteless contents of the vial as Brenna turned my chair to the right, pushing it further down the corridor. Each one of her steps echoed softly throughout the chamber, and the scenery was unchanging until we made a rounded turn and reached a spot where the smooth balcony discontinued, instead replaced by the shape of what seemed to be a rather abstract arc, triangular and rectangular and rounded all at the same time. I assumed it to be the back of some sort of hanging statue. I had not that much time to take the sight in, however, for Brenna approached another door, smaller yet more busily carved than the others in the corridor, turning the normal-sized knob and pushing me into a far less cavernous, cozy room filled with nothing but floor-to-wall bookshelves, the lighting dim, with a few round mahogany tables placed about the center of the room, glowing from the light of dying embers in the fireplace. The room was, like all the others, round, but unlike the others, had walls of a deep green instead of gold, with a domed ceiling, a runic saying carved around it, just above the tops of the shelves.

“The palace has a few smaller libraries in addition to its grand one, and this is one of them. They were established as a gift to one of our former princes. Technically speaking, these are all his personal collections, and this is a quite special one, for it contains nothing but literature from your world. It is a bit outdated, I’ll admit, the most recent additions from only the late nineteenth century. 

“Now, I have to make rounds to my other wards, and in that time I will leave you here to select some books to take back to your room with you for entertainment until you are well enough for proper chambers.”

The medicine had done its work quicker than expected, and with Brenna left all my inhibitions and disbelief, replaced only with a strong sense of curiosity, which I grabbed a tight hold of for I felt it would not last forever. I steered my chair to the first shelf of the first case, taking a slow round across the room, observing my choices. Though there was nothing in the small library published after 1892, it possessed every classic known to man produced in that time frame, many obscure novels I had never even heard of before, and even the original works of figures such as Pythagoras and Archimedes. Everything seemed to be first edition yet was still preserved to perfection, appearing to have been cared for like a baby, and that small room alone contained books in more languages than I had heard of in all my life.

“I’d like to meet this prince,” I murmured to myself, reaching out and taking a yellowed copy of Wuthering Heights from the shelf. “I think we’d get along quite splendidly.”

When I decided my selection of four books was substantial, assuming that I could return to the library when I finished them and switch them out for more, I steered myself out of the room, grateful that Brenna had left the door open for me. I exited just as my nurse was entering a different room quite a ways down the hall, and, realizing that her rounds were most likely far from over, decided to do a bit of exploring myself. 

I didn’t get far before a stern, unfamiliar male voice reached my ears from afar, yet it seemed to be coming from over the balcony. Checking behind myself to make sure that I was not pursued, I approached the ledge, discovering that it was too high for me to see over in my chair-ridden state, so I instead moved myself over to the arc that interrupted the structure, peering forward and discovering a sliver of space through which I could watch. The poor, frustrating view gave me only the top of a white haired man’s head, fully armored in silver and seated atop a golden throne, a large staff of the same material clutched in his meaty hand, but it was better than nothing. Even from the limited picture, I could tell that this man was slouching a considerable amount, crumbling under the weight of obvious exhaustion.

“-born. We live, we die,” he was saying in a sharp, high voice, tone stern and authoritative. “Just as humans do.”

My intrigue urged me to inch forward, hands clenched at the armrests of my chair in order to steady my weakened form, gasping internally as a gorgeous, melodic baritone replied, voice much softer and lower in volume than the first, but no less powerful.

“Give or take five thousand years,” it drawled, the edges of the words trimmed with a biting sarcasm. Eager to see this beautiful voice’s owner, I crawled forward even closer, teetering on the edge of the chair, any pain from my wounds forgotten. It was all for naught, however, because it was quite clear that this crack in the structure would only show me the top of the slouching man’s head. Nevertheless, I continued to try as the conversation resumed.

“All this because Loki desires a throne.”

Ah! I had a name. Loki. Such a wonderful and unique title. Though, in the midst of all of that, I couldn’t believe that I was developing a romantic attraction to a voice when I had never even seen its owner.

“It is my birthright!” Loki snapped. I scooted even closer.

“Your birthright was to die as a child, cast out onto a frozen-”

“Ah!” I muffled my yelp with one hand as I tumbled from the chair, once again landing hard on the floor, flopping onto my back.

The pain from my wounds was no longer forgotten.

“Camryn! Are you alright?”

“Oh, my hero!” I exclaimed weakly as Thor rounded the corner, approaching me. “I should know better; eavesdropping only gets you into trouble.”

“Unfortunately, I must admit to the same act.” He lifted me into his large, sinewy arms and placed me back down into my chair with a gentle, practiced touch. “But, in this instance, I’m glad I was, else I would not have been here to help you.”

“What’s going on?” I questioned. “Who is that down there?”

“It’s Loki’s trial,” Thor replied, glancing down over the ledge, pain tattooed into his cerulean eyes as he dragged his hand down his beard, then pushed my chair away from the balcony and further down the corridor.

“And who’s Loki?” I pressed. “What did he do to require a private trial with… the king, as I’m assuming that man was?” For some unknown reason, I did so want to believe that this Loki was only falsely accused of some heinous deed, and not the truthful culprit.

“You don’t know?” Thor's eyes widened in disbelief.

“I’m- I’m sorry, I don’t.”

“Loki is my brother,” Thor revealed. “He is on trial for the havoc he wreaked upon New York City. He is the one that attacked you, and put you in that chair.”

“Oh.” All of a sudden, memories from the stories that gave me knowledge of the place I was in, yet didn’t believe to be real, came flooding back to me. Loki. The trickster god. Creator of chaos. Master of magic. The villain. Of course it was him. That perfect voice, and I assumed the rest of him was just so, was nothing but a lure, a hook to draw his victims in. And to think I fell for those false, deceptive charms…

“He’s back in the palace now?” I spat, surprised at my own sudden, fiery rage.

“He’s confined to the dungeons for the rest of his days,” Thor answered, pacing before me. “But knowing him, he’ll find his way around somehow. He’s quite skilled at astral projection, and I assume he’ll use that to his advantage.”

“Astral projection?” I repeated. “I’m glad Brenna gave me that medicine, or else my chair would regurgitate me onto the floor for a third time today.”

Thor’s brow furrowed in confusion but I dismissed my previous comment as unimportant, motioning for him to continue.

“Even in his confinement, Loki will still achieve his passage about the palace,” Thor informed. “His experiences throughout the past year have twisted him, and now he enjoys doing quite the same as what’s been done to him: toying with people’s minds for his own amusement. For your sake and safety, it is my recommendation that you do whatever you are able to stay as far away from him as possible.”

“Oh, believe me,” I scoffed. “I will.”


	4. Chapter Three

After my conversation with Thor had concluded, I requested that he take me back to the library so I could pretend I had been a good little girl that didn’t wander when Brenna returned. She did so just as I was scooping my book selections back onto my lap, and I tried my best to appear that I was not flushed from my hurry to return.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” she sighed, brushing stray curls away from her forehead. “You must’ve been bored to tears.”

“Not really.” My answer was not a lie in the slightest. “This library is quite fascinating.”

“Just wait until you see the rest of the palace,” she declared. “Shall we take you for a bath, then?”

As Brenna wheeled me off further down the hall, I drew attention to her former comment. “When will I be able to explore? The palace, I mean.”

“I’d like to say that you’ll be able to when you’re healed, but unfortunately, you must get the king’s leave before you go anywhere besides this wing. You’re the first mortal to ever set foot in our realm, and His Majesty is quite wary when it comes to liabilities. In addition to that, where you go will be restricted. He definitely doesn’t want to send you home to Midgard with all of Asgard’s secrets.”

Suddenly, the brief bit information I learned of the king from Frigga came flooding back to me, and, consumed in my own sudden rage and sullenness, I couldn’t believe those thoughts never crossed my mind when I saw the man in person.

“If he even lets me go home,” I mumbled, slumping down in my seat. Luckily, my comment was not heard, and Brenna continued to wheel me down the corridor until we reached a door that radiated heat and steam. The moment we approached, it was opened by two girls about my age in uniforms matched to Brenna’s. Once that task was finished, they scurried away to the left of the entrance and positioned themselves on opposite sides of a round wooden tub at least seven feet in diameter, eyes cast towards the ground.

“Who do you think I am, the queen?” Brenna barked, but gently. “Don’t be that way. I may be a station above you, but we were formerly in the same class, for Odin’s sake.”

“Our apologies, Brenna,” the girl on the left squeaked, and when they raised their pale blonde heads, I realized that they were identical twins. “We always forget.”

“Yes, well, you’d do better to remember, else Eir will never award you with a permanent position here, I can tell you that.” Brenna moved to the side of my chair and placed a hand on her hip. “Camryn, that’s Gyda on the left and Hertha on the right. They’re apprentices under Eir, the chief healer of the palace. If you need assistance telling them apart, Gyda has a freckle by her mouth and Hertha is slightly pigeon-toed.”

“Hey!” Hertha protested. “You know I hate it when you bring that up. It makes me a horrid dancer.”

“You know that if you truly want to be a palace healer you shouldn’t dwell on anything other than your studies,” Brenna scolded. “Now, can I please stop lecturing you two and get Camryn into her bath?”

As the girls bustled over, I allowed myself to observe the cavern of a room. It was likely the size of a large house, going on for what seemed to be forever. A narrow pathway cut straight through the center of the room, and on either side was a grid of identically sized sections, each containing one of the gargantuan tubs, a small shelf of brushes, washcloths, and soaps in glass containers, and a collection of white linen curtains to provide privacy. Gyda pulled those around my cubicle closed as Brenna helped me stand, and Hertha began to fumble with the buttons of my nightgown.

“Don’t be shy,” she tittered as she discarded the fabric into a laundry bin, then began to unfasten my underclothes and remove my bandages. “We’ve all seen you before.”

When my body was bare, I took a death grip on Brenna’s bony and Hertha’s fleshy arm, and together they helped me into the already steaming bath, Gyda adding heat by pouring in some water from a large pitcher that rested upon the rim. The temperature, whilst comforting everywhere else on my body, felt like the fires of hell upon my wounds, and it was all I could do to keep from screaming. I clutched the rim until my knuckles turned white and clenched my teeth as Gyda began to loosen my hair from the knot I had no idea it was tied in.

“Gods be good, your hair is gorgeous,” she fawned as it fell to my sides and began to float atop the frothy water. “Hertha, bring me the proper soaps and brushes, would you?”

As her sister obliged, I realized that Brenna had been too kind when she called Hertha “a little” pigeon toed. It threw her quite off balance in just a simple walk, and made the rest of her demeanor quite clumsy. As she bent over to collect the proper tools, she instead tipped the entire shelf over. Gyda cursed, then bustled over to correct the mistake.

“Well, it seems that you two have it somewhat under control.” Brenna cleared her throat from where she oversaw in the corner. “I have orders to go and fetch Eir, so I’ll be leaving you. Try not to drown Camryn.”

“That was directed at you, Hertha.” Gyda cocked a thin white eyebrow as she returned to the tub. “I think it’s safer that I be the one to wash her hair.”

“Er, ladies, I’m perfectly capable of bathing myself.” I inched backwards, only to slip off the edge of the bench lining the perimeter of the tub, accidentally submerging myself to the forehead. I reached out to push myself back to the surface, but my dominant arm happened to be the injured one, and it buckled almost immediately. Just as the panicky feeling of all oxygen leaving my body began to take over as I thrashed in the water, a strong hand latched under my shoulder and yanked me up, its owner tutting nonchalantly. I sputtered and coughed, and when my vision cleared, four round blue eyes were blinking at me expressionlessly.

“In reply to your previous comment, you are definitely not ready to bathe yourself,” Gyda countered. “And besides, we need the training. The royal family aren’t people you’re supposed to practice on, and it’s so rare for us to see someone actually wounded that we’re allowed to care for.”

“Who do you practice on normally, then?” I inquired as Hertha rolled up her sleeves and began to slather my hair with a soap that smelled of apples.

“Squire boys with alcohol sickness, mostly,” she replied in an almost singsong tone. “Assisting scullery maids in birthing their bastards by the stable boys.”

“Well, I help with the births, not her,” Gyda cut in. “Because I don’t drop the babies.”

“That was one time!” Hertha screeched. “There was a fold in the rug and I tripped over it. It’s not as if Egil was harmed; he landed on the bed!”

“Yes, but Embla is still so angry about it that she hasn’t spoken to you since.” Gyda let more water from the basin fall onto the crown of my head, pushing the soap into my eyes. “Honestly, Hertha, your clumsiness is becoming a problem.”

“It’s not as if you are the master of midwifery,” Hertha argued. “All you do is pass tools to Ingrid and Nanna while they do all the work.”

“Who are Ingrid and Nanna?” I interrupted, partly to break apart the bickering sisters and partly to distract myself from the pain as Gyda began to scrub at my wounded arm. “Are they healers?”

“The palace midwives,” Gyda replied. “Eir will attend the birth instead of the mother is someone of import, but that hasn’t happened in years. The queen only had one child, and that was over a thousand years ago.”

“I thought the queen had two sons.”

“Well, only one child of her own body,” Gyda elaborated. “Prince Loki, the younger, was adopted.”

“Mm.” Hertha’s thin lips dragged up into a sloppy grin as she turned tomato red. “Prince Loki. I almost switched career paths and became a maid when I heard the noises those girls made when they were in his bedchamber.”

“As if he’d take you.” Gyda went to work on the wounds cutting through my torso, sending knives of pain all the way through my forehead and toes. “Hand me that brush, would you?”

“He took all of his maids, if their stories are to be believed. They all said he was the best they’d ever had, even those who were virgins when they came to his bed,” Hertha tittered as she obliged. “Wasn’t his trial earlier today?”

“Yes, and it was doomed from the beginning.” Gyda wiped her sweaty brow, the steam bringing a pink flush to her heart-shaped face. “He’s been confined to the dungeons for the rest of his days. All the girls are sobbing into their dustrags today, and Toril’s already said that she’s going to find a way to break into his cell to comfort him, if you know what I'm saying.”

“Why would you comfort and pity someone so despicable?” I spat. “He’s done horrible things.”

“You don’t understand,” Hertha insisted, crouching down upon the tub steps so that her face was level with mine. “All these feelings are from before he went completely mad.”

“You think he’s insane?”

“Not think, know.” Gyda abandoned her task and joined her sister, and the two peered up at me, looking rather like imps toying with a victim. “It’s an epic story, one that can never be wiped from Asgard’s history, no matter how hard the Allfather has tried.”

“The great tragedy of Prince Loki The First,” Hertha echoed.

“Herth, that’s not what it’s called.” Gyda scrunched her tiny nose. “That title’s worse than the stupid love poems you used to slip into Bjorn’s saddle.”

“Title or no, could you tell me the story?” I pleaded, desperately trying to put the girls back on a track that they so frequently wavered from.

“Glad to.” Hertha’s eyes began to shimmer as she delved straight in. “All the men, fathers and brothers and figures like that, thought that Thor was the preferred prince to us girls, but they were wrong. Most of those attracted to him just wanted to be a queen. And, well, he was betrothed to Lady Sif, until she decided to become a warrior and her parents cut off the engagement.”

“She didn’t ask for Sif’s story,” Gyda snapped. “What my overly loquacious twin is trying to say is, Loki was the one we really wanted. He was just so charming.”

“Attractive,” Hertha put in.

“Mysterious,” Gyda added.

“Romantic.”

“Skilled.”

“Hilarious.”

“He was always reading somewhere, or riding. Sometimes he even read atop his horse.” Gyda giggled girlishly. “But no matter how immersed he was, he would always give you this look as you walked by. It was enough to turn one into a puddle.”

“If you were pretty enough, he would start quoting sonnets when you passed.” Hertha sighed dreamily. “He would send flowers in the beaks of doves that he created with his magic, and when the bouquet was in your hands the birds would turn into petals that ornamented your hair.”

“He would sneak you your favorite treats from the kitchens and present you with jewels worth more than your entire family’s life savings.” Gyda tucked a hand under her chin. “They called him silvertongue, and it was the most appropriate title he could’ve had.”

“Once he’d had you twice or thrice, though, he’d break your heart.” Hertha frowned. “No one really minded, though, because it was considered such a privilege to have been with him.”

“When girls wept, it was because they were so grateful, and because they knew their future husbands would pale in comparison.”

“That all stopped when they began planning Thor’s coronation, though.” Hertha tugged at her velvet cuffs. “He barely left his chambers and had no women for months, but when Thor was banished and Odin fell into his great sleep, he became king long before he was ready, and that’s what broke him.”

By this point I was completely lost, unknowing of the history and customs of Asgard, but I wasn’t about to stop the twins now. As they argued over some minute detail, I directed my gaze down to the bathwater, which was beginning to be tinged red from the blood brought about by scrubbing my wounds, waiting for them to continue.

“Well, anyway,” Gyda continued, “the stress of prematurely gaining the crown caused him to lose his mind. His decrees were… extreme. He negotiated with Jotunheim, a realm at which we were at the dawn of war with, only to double-cross them and attempt genocide; sent Asgard’s greatest metal defender to kill his brother; caused the destruction of the Bifrost, the bridge that allows us to travel between worlds; and upon his failure, the prince attempted suicide.”

“The Allfather tried to tell everyone that it was an accident caused by the blast of the Bifrost shattering, but Thor said they were insulting his memory by lying about his death.” Hertha shook her head. “We mourned the wayward prince for a year, until he suddenly popped up trying to take over Midgard. No one knows where he landed after falling into the void, but whatever happened to him there changed him. We’re not even sure he’s the same person anymore.”

As I was mulling the story over, attempting to formulate a reply, a door slammed and the curtains to my cubicle were thrown aside.

“What are you two doing?” a voice that could cut diamond snapped. “Why are you sitting there, gossiping like little girls? What of your duties?”

The twins yelped as they stumbled from their positions and scurried back to where they went when Brenna entered, flanking either side of the tub, paling faces cast towards the floor.

I turned in my bathwater and studied the newcomer with fear rising in my belly. The woman wore the same uniform as Brenna, Gyda, and Hertha, but a gold collar about her slender neck asserted her authority. Her complexion was delicately pale and her dark curls were completely tamed, but her face was the most striking thing about her. Bright blue eyes softened a harsh jaw and nose, and though it appeared aged, or as if it should be aged, her skin was completely smooth, with nary a wrinkle in sight. I decided that she would be very pretty, if she didn’t look ready to kill a man.

Brenna trailed behind her, mouthing “I told you so” at the twins as the woman stepped up to me and took my injured arm in a cold, bony hand, yanking it right out of the water and turning it over this way and that.

“You two can do nothing right,” she spat, disgusted. “You’ve used the wrong formula. I told you to use the gentle antiseptic soap on her wounds, not the generic. You’ve irritated the gashes. What if this was a patient that had been poisoned, with only seconds remaining to save them, and you gave them the wrong antidote, causing their death?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Gyda whined. “Hertha knocked the bloody shelf over, and got everything confused.”

“It is still your job to double-check everything and correct any mistakes.” The woman scoffed and turned away. “I want you two out of my sight. Brenna, please escort them to Uffe’s chambers. His dressings want changed.”

“Not Icky Uffe!” Hertha whimpered. “His weeping ulcers make me want to vomit.”

“If you’re that squeamish, perhaps you should return home and continue your eternal wait for a husband that will accept your mediocre dowry,” the woman hissed as Brenna yanked them away. I shrunk back into the tub, trying to make myself as small as possible so not to offend this figure of authority, but she turned to me with a warm smile, adding confusion to my strange mix of emotions that seemed to be constant as of late.

“I apologize for having introduced myself in such a way. Some of my students just… require a harsh hand, is all.” She took the proper soap from the self and began to clean my arm, this time alleviating the pain instead of bringing it on. “I am Eir, the royal healer-in-chief. I oversee everything having to do with medicine in the palace.”

“Good to meet you. I’m-”

“Camryn. Yes, I know. The famous mortal that survived a wound that would be fatal to even us Asgardians.” Eir’s eyebrows soared into her hairline. “You’re very special.”  
“Not really,” I countered. “I only survived because the tesseract’s energy kept me alive.”

“That’s what’s special.” Eir leaned forward. “The device isn’t supposed to do that. The tesseract is supposed to power weapons specially designed to harbor its energy, and destroy anything that isn’t. Instead, it powered you. It latched onto something inside of your body and kept you alive. For what reason, I do not know.”

“But it’s gone now,” I reminded. “The energy, it’s no longer in me. There’s no trace of it left.”

“No trace that can be detected. It took a heavy bout of convincing, but I finally earned the Allfather’s granted access to something that will draw any remaining energy out. When you’re done here, I’d like to see you in my private ward so I may conduct my own evaluation.”

“Oh.” Eir’s explanation was quite different from the one Frigga had given me, and much more frightening. What made the energy attach itself to me? What made me like a weapon? These were questions that were burning holes in my head, but for some reason I could not bring them to my tongue. Instead, I nodded feebly as Brenna returned, folded garments for me stacked in her arms.

Once the chieftain took her leave, Brenna approached the tub and helped me step out, handing me a plush white towel. Once I was dry, she assisted me in dressing in some simple underclothes, a white cotton shift, and then a floor-length dress that seemed to be right out of a Renaissance faire: square-necked and cut from a rich brown velvet; the a-lined skirt parted at the point of my navel, revealing a slice of ivory taffeta, the same light color trimming the neckline, my waistline, and the cuffs at my wrists. Though it was plain compared to what those I had seen so far wore, it was easily my favorite thing I had ever put on.

When I was dressed, Brenna helped me braid my hair down my back, then placed me back in my hovering chair and steered me out of the bathing room. Down the corridor we went once again, until it forked, one path leading to a wide staircase, one leading outdoors via a long, covered walkway. We turned towards the latter, and a warm breeze washed over my face as we exited the palace. The walkway soon turned to a bridge arching over a babbling river that filtered into an expansive ocean. The columns on either side of the pavilion and my restricted position severely limited my seeing anything but that, however, the smells and sounds were enough to draw a vivid, wonderful picture in my mind’s eye. The river gushed over small rocks below, birds sang a melody to each other, and I could just barely make out a child’s squeal. The scent of flora from what seemed to be a nearby garden was overwhelming in the best way, and I didn’t believe I’d ever inhaled such fresh air in my life. I was enjoying the tranquility so greatly that I barely noticed I was inside until the resounding pound of the door closing echoed behind me, and I jerked into reality as Brenna navigated through hallways dimly lit with a brownish red glow. Eventually she rounded a corner and came to a doorway with no door, a small chamber boasting a boxy examination table covered in runes within. Brenna pushed me through and Eir hurried over to help me onto the table, where I swayed dangerously, desperately clinging to the edge in order to stay upright. Brenna placed a hand at my back to steady me, and I was grateful for it.

“So,” I started, inhaling deeply. “Shall we begin?”

“We’re not quite ready yet,” Eir replied, sliding a pair of thick black gloves over her thin hands. “We’re still awaiting the arrival of the guards.”

My mouth dropped open. “Guards? Why… why are they coming?”

“They’re bringing the Tesseract,” Brenna answered. “We’re going to see how you react with it.”

“How I react with it,” I echoed. “What am I, a chemical?”

Brenna had no answer for me, and instead exchanged a terse glance with Eir. The older woman shook her head as if in warning, and that was when the guards arrived.  
If I had not expected them to be garbed in such, I would have mistaken them for blocks of gold. There were two of them, wearing goldspun breeches and capes under golden breastplates, with ornately carved helmets atop their head, giving their solemn faces a harsh line. Even their skin seemed gold, and the only thing that was not the rich yellow color on their bodies were their black boots. Between the two of them they carried a glass cannister containing a pulsing blue cube, radiating such a bright light it almost hurt to look at. The object itself was unfamiliar, but the glow…

All of a sudden, my eyes snapped shut, and I began to relive that day in Central Park, with both blasts reaching out to penetrate my body, causing me to glimpse past a veil of death I never thought I’d see...

When I opened my eyes, I had fallen backwards onto the table, a cold sweat plastering the hairs about my face to my forehead. I gulped in a large gasp of air, pushing myself back into a sitting position.

“Are you alright?” Eir came to my side, placing a hand to my uninjured arm.

“Yes, I just…” As I met the eyes of the guards, their cold gazes made me trail off. “Shall we begin the test, then?”

“Not yet,” the left guard stated gruffly. “The extra one needs to go.”

“What, me?” Brenna’s mouth molded into a frown.

“She’s my second-in-command, and qualified to witness this,” Eir defended.

“No unnecessary persons are to be in the room when the test is taking place,” the right guard explained. “By order of the Allfather.”

Eir’s face changed to the one that so frightened me when I first encountered her earlier that day, but she obliged nevertheless.

“Brenna.” Her voice was pressed. “Leave us, please.”

Once my only friend was far from sight, the guards gave the ornately carved handles of the canister a sharp twist, revealing an opening. Eir approached and gingerly took the cube in both hands, holding it as lightly as possible. Slowly she approached, and outstretched her arms until the thing was practically right under my nose.

“I don’t understand,” I announced as everything went still, each pair of eyes fixated on me intently. “What’s supposed to be happening?”

When their gazes turned wary, I began to glance down and inspect myself, and noticed that my fingernails were glowing the same color of the one emitted from the Tesseract, though dimmed. I raised my hands to my face in order to better inspect it, and the closer my fingers came to the cube, the brighter the glow became.

“What’s going on?” I gasped.

“Camryn.” Eir beckoned to one of the guards and instructed him to hold the device as she brought a mirror to my face. “I’m assuming you want to see this.”

As I gazed upon my reflection, I noticed something different. Something very different, and very wrong. I blinked and scratched at my eyes roughly, but when I opened them again, they were unchanged. My irises were not their normal blackish brown. They were ethereal; alien.

They were such a bright blue it was as if the cube was forged from my eyes.


	5. Chapter Four

My footsteps echoed ominously as I wandered along the corridor, the scattered servants going about their daily duties each turning to gawk at me, some even inching away nervously. A sense of foreboding took over my senses, though it was rather misplaced, for the invitation was good-hearted enough.

“The queen wishes for an audience with you this morning in her personal chambers,” Brenna had announced during my routine check-up, then gave me directions on how to get there.

“Be sure you do not stray from that route,” she firmly warned. “It will not be received well if you do.”

I was admittedly early for my appointment, but I had nothing else to busy myself with. Once I was no longer bedridden, my bare healing chamber began to feel more like a prison than anything else. Given, it technically was, especially now.

A week later, my reaction to the Tesseract was still a mystery to everyone involved. The moment I turned to ask Eir why my eyes were suddenly glowing blue, a sharp, burning feeling shot down my injured arm, drawing a yelp from my lips as the mirror I was holding fell to the floor and shattered. Eir pulled aside the bandages and discovered that the deep gash there had completely healed itself in an instant, leaving nothing but a long, pink scar in its wake. Later, once I was barricaded back in my room, the wound in my stomach, which was estimated to require at least another month’s recovery time, healed completely within three days. 

Supposedly, that indicated that the Tesseract’s energy was strong in me, stronger than anyone had anticipated. The guards sensed this, and moment the bandages were pulled away, they locked the cube back up in its container and whisked it away quicker than I could blink. Eir advised that I control my unpleasant emotions until further research could be done. Everyone was afraid that I suddenly had some sort of power, and I was automatically written off as dangerous. Sometimes even I questioned my control and began to fear what was happening to me. I had been forbidden to leave save for exchanging my borrowed books for new ones in the queerly placed library tucked at the edge of the healing wing, so I jumped at the first opportunity for an outing and to stretch my underused legs.

I approached the towering door Brenna had described and knocked timidly, wishing I had further thought out that action, as I was sure the engravings I rapped upon were going to cause bruises to bloom along my knuckles. The enormous piece of artwork posing as a door was pushed open by a woman appearing to be my age (though, after Brenna revealed that she had recently met her nine hundredth birthday, I learned not to make any assumptions) with flowing chestnut hair, full bust spilling out of a gown that nearly matched the color of her locks perfectly. She ushered me through the doorway and into a cozy living area, gesturing wordlessly to an armchair by the crackling fireplace, then disappeared through a door opposite the one we had just been through. I gratefully sank down onto the royal blue cushions, observing my surroundings intently.

The room, though smaller than I was expecting, was still quite large, and the unpaned windows that spanned at least twenty feet top to bottom gave it a light and airy feel, the fluttering cream drapes adding an ethereal quality. The furnishings were simple and few, yet luxurious: an armchair opposite mine by the fireplace, which bore a few wooden figurines and books on its mantle; a round table surrounded by four velvet-upholstered chairs; and a long, low sofa next to a towering bookcase. I was just about to stand up and explore the titles when the door burst open and Frigga entered, flanked by three handmaids, one of them being the one that had greeted me earlier. The queen offered a warm smile of greeting, but the slow closing of the door behind her revealed a sight that made my blood run cold.

Through the visible sliver of the room within, hovering atop what seemed to be some sort of fire pit, was the visage of a man, shimmering and surrounded in a glow like a mirage. I made out barely any of his features save wintery skin and ebony hair, but what felt like fire raged through my blood, and a feeling churned in my stomach that I recognized as a panic attack. Images swam before my eyes of the day that condemned me to my fate in a foreign dimension, and I felt myself getting the injuries all over again as my vision went black. Before I knew it, I was on the floor, curled into a ball, my arms sealed around my stomach.

“Camryn?” Frigga’s hand on my shoulder jolted me back to reality, and I complied to letting her help me to my feet. “Are you alright?”

I took a wary glance over her shoulder to make sure the door was firmly shut, then nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Your wounds may have closed, but you’re still healing. That’s to be expected.” She made to direct me back into a chair, but I declined, sick of feeling so weak. As I took a few calming breaths, I glanced down and discovered that my fingernails were glowing blue all on their own, without the presence of the Tesseract, something they had never done. I clenched my fists and tucked them behind my back as Frigga rejoined her escorts.

“Well, for the first order of business, I’d like to introduce you to these lovely girls. May I present Gerd, Inge, and Toril, my handmaids.”

As the girl who let me in was introduced as Toril, the offhanded reference about her wanting to have relations with the imprisoned prince made by the in-training twins, Gyda and Hertha, came to mind, and my opinion of the stoic young girl changed entirely, heat creeping up my face. The girls curtsied dutifully, and I barely noticed, save for commenting to myself that they were considerably more professional than the twins, for which I was grateful.

“Pleased to meet you.” I dipped my head, my voice sounding painfully unsure and childish.

“I’m offering their services to you whilst you’re here. You’ll soon be moved to proper chambers, and will have need of them.”

“Thank you, but don’t you need their assistance, too?”

“Never have I had need for all three at once. Frankly, sometimes I’ve no need of any of them at all. Here.” She passed me a golden bell, though when rang, made no sound. “This will summon someone when you require service.”

I took the bell in hand, praying she didn’t notice the blue tips of my fingers. “I sense that’s not the only reason you called me here.”

The queen sighed as she floated into a seat, draping her gown across her knees for unrestricted movement. I joined her, nerves knotting my insides.

“You recall what I told you of my husband being dubious of your presence here?”

My instinctual reply would have been “How in hell could I forget?”, but I resisted, acknowledging my answer with a simple nod.

“Now that you’re better, he’s insisting that you have a hearing, in order to determine whether you’ll be allowed to go home or not.”

“A hearing?” I echoed. “When- when is it scheduled to take place?”

“It’s due to happen this afternoon, once our luncheon is finished. All staff and most of the guard will be dining then, so it will be as private as possible.”

I pulled myself to my feet, pacing towards the window. “I take it from the fact that I’ve been offered the service of maids and real chambers that I’ll be forced to stay?”

Frigga turned in her seat to follow my movements with her gaze. “I don’t know what the king’s decision will be. He called the hearing after my summons for you, as a matter of fact. However, while I understand your reasoning, would staying here really be all that bad?”

I stopped abruptly, fearing that I had offended her. I hurried to formulate as polite a reply as possible.

“It’s lovely here, and so are the people I’ve met. It’s a fascinating place, and I’m thrilled to have had this experience and been gifted with this knowledge, but it’s not home. And, honestly, I know what my life is going to be like if I have to stay here, and it’s not the life I chose for myself. I’d rather live out that path, which is quite extraordinary for being a short and human one, with no knowledge of this place, than spend my days as a prisoner here.”

Frigga stood to meet me, smiling warmly even though sadness shone through her eyes. “You’re quite a wise girl, Camryn. For your sake, I hope things happen the way you’re hoping they will.”

“Your Majesty, if I may.” Toril approached the two of us, appearing to be the highest ranking of maids. “I don’t mean to intrude or speak out of turn, but the luncheon bell has just rung. You’ll want to make your way to the dining hall soon.”

“Yes, thank you for the reminder, Toril. Well placed, too, for if I’m late, I’ll find that Thor has eaten all of the dates, and there will be none left for me.” The queen quickly straightened her appearance. “Camryn, I’ve had a gown laid out for you to wear on your bed. Inge will accompany you back to your chambers to dress. Unfortunately I must be present beside the king during all hearings, so I won’t be able to see you in. However, if you are frightened whilst facing the throne, just look to me.”

As the queen left, the broadly built, golden-haired handmaid named Inge stayed behind. Her skin was a lovely shade of light brown, her gown fit her frame a bit more snugly than it did others, and her blue eyes seemed kind enough.

“Shall we go, my lady?” She motioned to the door, and we took our leave from the room. Her height caused her to keep stride with me better than nearly every girl I had met, and I was impressed by it. All women on Asgard seemed to be on the tall side of the spectrum, save pixie-like Brenna.

“I’m hardly a lady,” I countered as we made way for the healing wing, the scenery becoming a bit too familiar. “The way I hear it, I’m lower than the lowest scullery maid, for being human.”

“Her Majesty made it clear that we’re to observe the proper courtesies. You’re a guest, and that’s the proper courtesy.” Inge opened my door for me, allowing me to cross the threshold and approach the bed where Frigga’s promised gown laid across the disheveled covers. It was a lovely thing, the charmeuse dyed rich purples and cornflower blues, the layered skirt flowing into a short train, the sleeves billowing around and past my wrists in the shape of calla lilies. Inge helped me to pull it on and fastened the mother-of-pearl buttons up the back with expert hands, then brushed my hair and arranged it nicely about the boatneck collar.

“This gown is so beautiful,” I commented, observing myself in the narrow mirror added to the wall as Inge fussed with the thin layers of the skirt, which varied in length. “Quite more so than I was expecting.”

“Everyone is to look their best at court.” She studied my form once again, then turned away. “When you’re presented to the king, you’ll be expected to kneel. While doing so, place your right fist over your heart and avert your eyes, like so.” She demonstrated. “Now you.”

I did my best to imitate the position, navigating my waterfall of a skirt surprisingly well. Inge nodded her approval.

“That will suffice. Remember, do not raise your eyes or form until bid to do so. You are being presented to the most powerful and revered man in all the nine realms.”

“Understood. Could you escort me there?” I requested. “I’ve no idea how to get to the throne room.”

“Just as well.” Inge allowed herself a small smile. “The king wouldn’t want you knowing the main passages, nor be seen by those who walk them. I can take you there through the servant’s corridors.”

Inge led me out again, expertly stealing through the halls and entering a small storeroom of medical supplies. Nestled between towering shelves of gauze and ointments was a small, wood-paneled door, so narrow Inge had to go through sideways. I was able to fit through normally, though it was a tight squeeze. The corridor within was only a smidge wider, with stone walls and distressed wooden floors, a sharp comparison to the imperialism of the rest of the palace. It was dark and gloomy, though not quite unpleasant, the only light yielded from candles slumping in brass holders leaking wax. 

It soon became obvious that Inge was quite familiar with these passages, for she stole down the path so quickly I almost couldn’t catch up. I followed her down a winding staircase, through another door, across another passage, and down another serpentine stairwell before we finally came upon a room stocked with pieces of golden armor. I had not much time to marvel at it, however, for the handmaid pulled me into a main hallway, straightened a lick of my hair that had gone astray en route, and presented me to two unblinking guards manning an impossibly tall set of double doors, though those were free of any sort of engravings.

“Wait here,” one instructed in a gruff tone, banging his staff upon the floor three consecutive times. I stood there awkwardly as Inge took her leave, unsure of what to do or where to look, until a third guard pushed the doors apart from the inside and nodded to his colleagues.

“He’s ready for her.”

I was motioned through, and discovered that I was upon a raised bit of flooring, which I assumed was for public use in particularly riveting cases brought before the court. I stepped down from the viewing area and turned to my right, where the king sat upon his golden throne at least a hundred feet in front of me. Gulping to calm my nerves, I began my trek, slow enough to be ladylike but not enough to anger the old man. When I felt as if I could not breathe, I averted my eyes to the left of the throne, where Frigga stood next to an ivory column. She smiled at me encouragingly, and I felt stronger for it.

When I reached the foot of the wide stone steps leading to the throne, I knelt as Inge had instructed. All was still, with no sound to be heard but the king’s labored breathing, and my knee was throbbing before he finally bid me to rise in that high voice that sent shivers of hate down my spine. I raised my eyes and discovered that he was just as I had remembered him from my eavesdropping upon Loki’s trial: tired, slumping, and sickly. The effect was considerably amplified now that I could look upon his heavily creased and drooping face.

“So you’re the one I’ve been hearing of,” he began wearily, yet his tone still held a bite. “The mortal who has infiltrated the Asgardian palace.”

“Not by choice, Your Majesty.” My voice was timid. “I apologize for-”

“You will speak when spoken to!” he roared, eliciting a sharp scolding from Frigga. “Asgard is the most powerful and prosperous of the realms. You are a stain on our great history and an insult to our judgement. If word got out about you, I would be mocked until my family line dies out. Because of this, it was my original intention to cast you back to Midgard, but the fact that the Tesseract’s energy still resides in you changes things.”

My heart leapt with optimism, but dropped to my feet the moment it took off.

“Husband?” Frigga, looking from me to the king, mounted the steps to the throne. “Surely this isn’t so large an issue that she must be quarantined here. There are organizations on Midgard, allied with Thor, that can help her to understand the power she has and teach her to control it.”

“And then use her against us!”

“By the gods, Odin, she’s not a weapon!”

“She very well could end up being one!” He raised his voice, still speaking to his wife, though his words were directed at me. “Until such time as the true nature of her power is revealed, she will remain here. She will die here if need be. End of discussion.” 

I hadn’t paid much attention to the familiar fire-like feeling brewing in my stomach or my fingernails glowing so brightly that the light radiated down to my palms, for my mind was focused on other things. It seemed that not paying attention to feelings would be the death of me, for when I uttered a desperate plea of “Your Majesty, please,” and stepped closer to the throne, a great blast of hot, blue light shot from my hand. It was not at all unlike the blast that had earned me my nearly-fatal wounds, and when it made contact with the stairs, it left a gaping crater, stone debris flying everywhere, some cutting me across the forehead and sending blood flowing into my eye. 

The room went completely still for an agonizing moment, each eye affixed upon me. I drew my vibrating and thrumming hands, warm as if I had been resting them against a boiling pot, to my chest. I considered fleeing, for that seemed to be the only logical thing to do, until the scene was approached by a guard.

“My king, are you hurt?” He inquired breathlessly, disregarding me and Frigga both.

“No, no, I…” The king trailed off. “If you would, bring forth the chains and escort her to her new rooms.”

“What?” I glanced right and left as two more guards appeared from nowhere, carrying between them a pair of thick handcuffs, runes carved into the sides. More blasts radiated from my hands, though they were smaller, barely coming past my fingers, but when one guard held me down from behind and the other affixed the cuffs to my wrists, a great, constant one shot from both palms at once, colliding with each other and burning the chains apart. Once I had freedom of movement, I elbowed my captors in their stomachs, force increased by even more bursts of energy from my palms, wrenching myself out of their grasps and sprinting down the room, unsure of how I meant to escape, or the cause for my sudden, crazed need to.

As I ran, for a split second it seemed as if escape was prospective. However, one of the guards soon burst from his shock and lumbered up behind me, encouraged by the king’s screamed orders to seize me. His heavy, purely ceremonial armor was cumbersome and slowed him down, though his stride was still twice the size of mine, so it was soon no issue for him to grab me around the stomach and drag me back to the foot of the throne. I kicked and screamed and shot my newfound power all about, completely void of control over it, leaving numerous craters in the floor and spreading debris everywhere.

“Frigga, no!” I heard the king shout, and I turned my head to discover the queen rushing over to me.

“No!” I protested, blue sparks flying from my hands. “Please, no. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” She raised her hand. “Calm yourself. You are capable.”

Her palm made contact with my head, and when she pulled it away, my consciousness went with it.

 

***

I woke in darkness. 

I sat up in the large bed I was laid in, but my eyes would not adjust. I tried to get up and fumble around for a light, but the burning feeling in my stomach and splitting headache had other ideas. To top that off, I was so weak I doubted I could stand. Instead, I flopped back down upon my tear-stained pillow, ready to resign to my fate until I heard muffled voices from outside the door.

“I do not see how she was able to break those fetters,” the king ranted. “You designed and enchanted them yourself. They’re supposed to cut off any and all magic the wearer might produce, and they’ve always worked.”

“Don’t you see?” Frigga insisted. “It’s not magic she has. It’s power, induced by the Tesseract.”

“Why does it cling to her so? It killed everyone else it came in contact with. Even if I did think it a possibility, I can picture it happening to someone of Asgard or Alfheim, perhaps, but never a Midgardian.”

“I don’t know the reason, but it’s something I plan to investigate.”

“You’ll do no such thing!” the king snapped. “She’s dangerous. I won’t have you hurt. Your stunt earlier could have gotten you killed.”

“Only because you provoked her!” I was startled at hearing harsh words from Frigga’s mouth, but her demeanor changed soon enough with a weary sigh. “Honestly, why can’t we let her go home? She will be far more relaxed, so the episodes will be less frequent. There are people who can help her-”

“She’s too much of a risk.” The king was adamant. “They will encourage her to let the power grow, and if that happens, she could destroy the universe as we know it. There’s a reason why the Tesseract is an object, not a being with a complex brain and hands. She could fall into the grasp of our enemies, and Asgard would be doomed. No one is to know she’s here. Bring everyone she’s ever come in contact with to the courtroom immediately. I want them all sworn to secrecy.”

Once the two had departed, I fell back to sleep in a fit of tears, only to be plagued with horrible dreams.

All of a sudden, all knowledge in all the worlds was thrust upon me. I saw everything that has, was, and ever would be. I saw how the universe began, and I saw how it would end. And above all, I saw the true power of what I had become.

And over and over and over, I saw the blasts of power that gave me that knowledge. As the vision repeated itself time and time again, I fumbled for the face of the one who gave it to me. I begged the source of my new power to show me, but it did not comply. Not until I opened my mind and stopped resisting what was happening.

Then, not only did I see him, but I knew where to find him.

I awoke to discover my brand-new chambers in tatters and destruction. I could not even tell what they had originally looked like, but at that moment I didn’t care. Induced with energy not previously present, I leapt from the bed and ran as fast as my legs would take me into the hallway, shooting down the guards before my door and stealing towards the nearest staircase. I rushed down every flight so fast I felt as if I would go tumbling over myself, but I held my ground. 

Eventually I came to a door below the ground level and wrenched it open, speeding through and down a staircase flanked by two reflecting pools, my crazed reflection staring up at me. For a moment, I wavered, terrified, for I seemed more feral animal than I did human, what with my bloody face, hair a mess, tattered clothes, and glowing blue eyes. I soon recovered, however, and descended into the palace dungeon. The guards posted at the door made to grab me, but I merely shot my power at them and they collapsed. Dead or alive, I could not tell, and did not care.

An alarm was blaring far off in the distance, but I could barely hear it. I sped past cell after cell after cell, until I finally reached his. I blasted the glass away and propelled myself inside, and he had not time to so much as inquire my identity before I had my hands about his throat, his jade eyes staring up at me in startled confusion. I wrenched my hands upward and slammed his head against the ground, his raven locks splaying about in sharp contrast to the stark white floor, before I finally screamed in the voice of one possessed by a devil:

“What did you do to me?”


	6. Chapter Five

“Concentrate, Camryn. Control your feelings.”

I clenched my fists tighter, attempting to diminish the blue glow that radiated from my palms as I stared at the illusions that Frigga was conjuring. Once the heat in my stomach and tingling in my fingers subsided a bit, I gave a short nod. Frigga waved away the image of the cruel, menacing scepter that gave me one of my injuries, but the moment she switched it to one of a Chitauri warrior, my hands burst apart beyond my control and I let loose a great blast of power that reduced a nearby vase and side table to shards. I sighed dejectedly as Gerd bustled over to clean the mess, and Inge extended a glass of water. Toril was off attending to some business for the queen, and I couldn’t help but think that she might be down in the cell having relations with the prince I nearly killed. At the thought of it, I could still feel his cold skin bruising and swelling under my fingers. He hadn’t even tried to fight… he just laid there, staring up at me with a look I couldn’t read. The one thing he did manage to choke out sounded to be “Finish it.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, staring blankly at the mess I created. Inge brushed some hair away from my face and began to monitor how using my power affected my health, and I had to resist the urge to shove her away. Eir and Brenna both were attending to some imperatively confidential engagement that no one was to know anything about yet everyone whispered over with fright. Frigga knew every detail but refused to say a word, and when I used a newly developed ability to discover what the fuss was regarding, I saw nothing but a fluid red substance, twisting and turning in air, along with a chestnut-haired woman, but my headache would grow too severe for me to maintain concentration before I could make out her face. However, this subject left no one else who was willing to come near me available, so it fell to the handmaid to gather Eir’s requested information.

“It’s alright.” Frigga settled down next to me on the sofa. “You’re not going to have control in your first attempts. This process requires a considerable amount of time, patience, and training with someone who knows what it’s like to have this sort of power. Besides, I never liked that vase, anyway. It was a gift from a foreign ambassador, so I was expected to put it on display. I’ve been looking for an excuse to get rid of it for years.”

“Not just for the vase, or losing control,” I grunted to my hands. “I’m sorry I tried to murder your son.”

“That wasn’t you.” She placed a hand on my bare arm. The weather outside was reverting to a biting, late-autumn chill, but since the incident of discovering my true power for the first time I was perpetually burning up, and couldn’t stand to dress appropriately. Instead, I was in the scant minimum of what would be considered acceptable: a thin, cream-colored shift with straps no wider than my little finger. I believed it was actually a nightgown, but no one besides Frigga was willing to see me, so I wasn’t too concerned about propriety. “The courtroom was the first time your power was released. Since you do not know how to control it, you could not cut off its flow, so it began to dictate your actions, as if you were possessed by it. What happened last night was just the Tesseract seeking to protect itself.”

There was a moment of silence, and the queen’s hands brushed over one of the bruises I received as the guards attempted to pry me off of Loki.

“Did they injure you?” she inquired, tapping one of the purple marks carefully.

“I think I hurt them more than they hurt me.” I chuckled in spite. “I went to go try and apologize to one I put in the infirmary, but before I could even get past the doorway of his room he said that he’d kill me if I took another step closer.”

“They just don’t understand what it’s like to have an ability such as that. They never could.”

“But I should be able to control it, for their sake.”

“You can’t expect to be able to. Not at first.”

“You shouldn’t even be around me.” I jumped to my feet, sparks flying from my fingertips. “Odin was right; I’m too dangerous. I could hurt you. He didn’t want you to come near me, let alone train me.”

She froze. “How do you know about that?”

“When you two were talking outside my chambers after the… episode, I woke up and heard your conversation. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It just… happened.”

She dismissed it as if she did not mind. “Odin may not want me here, but it’s my responsibility to teach you about your power. I’m one of the only people with advanced magical abilities in the palace, and therefore the only one who understands enough of them to be your mentor.”

“How many people are there with magical abilities, all in all?”

“A fair few,” she replied. “On Asgard, while many of our citizens have touches of talent here and there, a full range of ability is rare, but definitely not unheard of. It’s much more common in places like a neighboring realm, Alfheim. About seventy five percent of its population is thoroughly gifted in magic.”

“Because they’re light elves,” I filled in.

Frigga seemed taken aback. “I thought Odin had passed an order forbidding you from being exposed to any knowledge of the inhuman realms you didn’t already have.”

“He did.” I tapped my temple. “When the Tesseract took over, it fed every bit of knowledge that ever has been and ever will be into my brain. It was maddening, and I think that’s what caused my sudden need to run down and…well, strangle Prince Loki. But now that I’ve calmed down, it’s not as if all of that knowledge is present all hours of the day. It gets fed to me when I need it or when the subject matter comes up.”

“Interesting,” she murmured. “It is definitely imperative that you guard the nature of your abilities from the knowledge of others. With the right cultivation, you could become one of the most powerful beings in the universe. That warrants attention, and not always the right variety.”

Gerd and Inge froze n their tasks, and a spark flew off of my body as I stood so still I might as well have been carved from stone.

The queen realized her mistake and hurried to remedy it. She bustled to her feet, returning to the brazier from which she cast her illusions. It was determined that the first part of my training must be control, especially where my emotions were concerned. For the past hour, she had been conjuring images of triggers that could cause me to go off the wire- New York in flames, a Chitauri weapon, the Tesseract itself- and I would attempt to resist an emotional reaction in the form of power emission. So far I did not feel that I was doing well, but I at least progressed at every attempt.

Frigga went through the usual paces, and, especially because I knew exactly what was coming, my mind was still on her previous comment and I was able to look right past the translucent images, earning copious praise from the room’s other occupants. Images came and went, increasing in the intensity of the trigger, yet I still had no reaction, until the prince suddenly floated before me.

With a start, I allowed my eyes to focus and study his features. I could tell the image was current, like the projection of a security camera, for great blue and black bruises formed a morbid garden on the alabaster flesh of his neck. However, I could’ve easily mistaken it for a portrait, he stood so still. For I moment I seriously thought it was, until he heaved a great sigh and lowered himself into a chair with feline grace, running a lengthy hand down his face until it curled around his chin. He looked so exhausted, so mournful, yet so beautiful. He was any artist’s dream muse, and as I witnessed the hopelessness in his eyes, I almost felt sorry for him. He truly had wanted to die by my hand, or anyone’s. Was this truly the same man that impaled me with the uncontrollable power that now surged through my veins? How could he be, that mesmerizing creature of remorse?

“Camryn?” Frigga’s voice jolted me back to reality, and I noticed that I had approached the image, hand outstretched as if to cup his sunken cheek. I started, and a blast of energy surged from my body, causing the illusion to disappear. Thankfully, this time I broke nothing. Gerd and Inge mistook my stupor as weakness from the emissions, and each took one of my arms to lead me to sit on the sofa.

“That was excellent,” Frigga praised, gliding over to stand before me.

“I still lost control,” I condemned. In more ways than one.

“But you resisted for longer than most would have been able to.”

A low, resounding boom from the doors signaled Toril’s return. She bustled into the sitting room, curls slightly askew and cheeks flushed, and immediately fell into a deep curtsy. If her uniform were not so precise, I would have assumed that she was just with the prince I was so madly bewitched by.

“My queen,” she panted. “Eir and the healers have finished their business. She requests your presence in her study to discuss the findings.”

“Thank you, Toril.” The queen placed her hands under the handmaid’s elbows and helped her upright. “Camryn, I suggest you return to your chambers and rest. I believe they’ve been repaired fully. I will send up a meal for you.”

With a silent nod, I curtsied and strode to the door, and Inge scampered along behind me. By the king’s decree, I could not walk the palace unattended. He made it quite clear to me that if I were ever found breaking this order, especially in a place I was not supposed to be, that I would be stripped of my luxury as a guest and thrown into a cell in the deepest pits of the dungeon.

My new chambers were located on the same floor was the healing wing, selected specifically so that I would not see any more of the palace than I already had. A secret stairway just outside the queen’s chambers led straight into my bedroom, and the door that led to the primary corridor from my rooms was sealed shut.

I hated that, for it was utterly ridiculous to barricade me from the place I would be imprisoned in for the rest of my life.

Once Inge pushed aside the wardrobe that concealed the staircase door and made sure I was not going anywhere, she retreated from the room and I followed the smell of food coming from the living area, motivated more by curiosity than hunger. Upon the round, intimate dining table sat a fair-sized plate, a flagon of wine and cup, and a set of utensils tucked into a dense maroon napkin. I pulled aside the silver cover that rested over the dish and was consumed in a short blast of heat from the meal, which happened to be lamb, a warm asparagus salad, and a bit of toasted bread. The lamb was perfectly tender and aromatic, but I could not bring myself to sit down and eat. Instead I picked at the bread and sipped the wine sparingly, pacing through the rooms.

The chambers were quite lovely, yet nowhere near as grand as the queen’s. I was told that they were put there for healers on duty at night or tending to patients in critical condition, so they were made to accommodate more than one occupant, placed right in the middle of the healing wing’s action. The main doors were supposed to open upon the living area and were directly across from the doors to the bedroom. The entering room was the smaller of the two, higher than it was wide. A small smattering of furniture was present, its focus gravitating towards practicality rather than leisure. 

The bedroom contained two large, canopied beds, one on each wall. The one on the left wall was still made to precision, its many pillows stacked perfectly at the head. I occupied the other, and since no maids other than Frigga’s were willing to come near me, it was disheveled and unruly despite my attempts to make it. Next to the mahogany wardrobe, which was situated a few feet to the right of the left bed, was a large changing screen, and beside that a door led into a bathing room. There was not a single window in the rooms and the light was soft and smoggy, giving me a drugged, claustrophobic feeling. 

With that, along with my restless thoughts of colliding feelings about the prince, I could not take it anymore.

Stepping up to my nightstand, I seized the noiseless bell meant to summon the handmaids. I was about to give it a firm shake until I remembered that the servants would be having their midday meal at that time, and I did not wish to disturb them for my petty conquest. With a dejected huff, I collapsed upon the edge of the bed, figuring the only thing I could do was nap until a small voice spoke in my head.

Why can’t you just go by yourself? It questioned cloyingly. Your destination is just down the hall, and it’s not as if you’ll be lingering in the corridors. No one will even notice you. Your new power will show you the way, if you would only let it.

When I opened my eyes, a ribbon of electric blue light hung from my feet, snaking across the floor until it disappeared behind the hidden door.

In a trance-like state, I rose from my perch upon the duvet and followed the glowing trail. Heaving aside the wardrobe, I disappeared into the concealed corridor, the light arching towards a crude wooden door directly to my left. I mimicked its movements like an obedient child, and when the light faded I realized that I was in the storeroom that Inge led me into when she was directing me to the throne room via secret passageways. No longer needing any assistance, I pushed open the main door just a sliver, poked my head out to make sure no one was around, then sprinted towards the library, heart pounding as I lunged over the threshold.

Moving as silently as possible even though I was behind a thick, soundproof door, I straightened and took in the room in a new light. Before, I had only been concerned with the books and interior design, but now that I was intent on finding information regarding the person this strange library belonged to, different things became noticeable, others less. A layer of dust upon the singular reading table revealed that the room had not been used for quite a long time before I came, so long that the staff had halted the upkeep of it. I searched for any tidbit the prince might have left of himself in the only outlet available for my exploration, but found nothing of value. The only things I noted were a short letter from Frigga revealing that the copy of Don Quixote had been a gift from her’ the words “Property of Loki Odinson,” written in elegant, sharply-sloping calligraphy on the inside cover of one of the titles; and then, in another, newer-looking volume, “Property of Loki Laufeyson,” in the same hand, though it seemed as if he was shaking when he wrote it.

Brushing my fingers across the ink, I reflected upon what I had seen when the projection of him was displayed to me during my control exercises. He not only looked as if he had given up all hope of life, he looked almost remorseful. Perhaps I should find some way to apologize to him…

“No,” I spoke aloud. His expression wasn’t one of remorse, it was self-pity. The man tried to kill me, too, and had he ever given me any indication that he was sorry for his actions? If he hadn’t by now, he definitely never would. He was a horrible person, and I was letting his deceptive charm possess me.

“Snap out of it,” I coached. “Just because he’s attractive and seemed to be sorry for what he did at the time doesn’t mean that he’s-”

“Camryn?”

I whipped around and spotted Frigga in the doorway, staring at me with a furrowed brow.

“I-I’m so sorry,” I stuttered out, fumbling over my words. “I know I’m not supposed to be out by myself, but I didn’t want to disturb one of the girls while they were eating and I just wanted to get some books. I used the secret staircase, I didn-”

She silenced me with a raised hand.

“I don’t mind,” she assured, stepping closer. “I think your confinement is a ridiculous rule, and what my husband doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” A coy smile played at her lips. “I actually looked for you here first, even before going to your chambers.”

“Oh.” I dipped my chin, my face warming.

“Please, come.” She linked her arm in mine. “I have someone I think you’d like to meet.”

Startled because that was the last thing I expected the king to allow me to do, I followed eagerly. Much to my surprise, Frigga took me into the main corridor, and feeling heightened when she turned towards my new chambers and waved me inside. Confused, I turned to give her a questioning glance until I noticed a woman sitting uncomfortably upon one of the armchairs, dressed in Earthly clothes, her silhouette matching that from my self-induced visions of what was going on in the palace.

“Camryn, this is Jane Foster,” Frigga introduced. “She’s in a similar situation to you, for she is also native to Midgard and carries a relic of infinite power within her. She has the honor of being courted by Thor, so she is already somewhat familiar with Asgard..”

“Nice to meet you.” With a warm albeit pressed smile, she rose from the chair and extended her hand for a shake.

“You, as well.” I returned the gesture. “It’s good to know that I’m no longer going to be without someone who shares my problems.”

“Same here.” She chuckled breathily. “I’ll admit that I was a bit scared when I came here, under the circumstances, but I’m glad I was introduced to you.”

“I hope the two of you don’t mind sharing these chambers,” Frigga cut in, though not impolitely. “I’ve some business to attend to, so I’ll leave you two to get to know each other.” With a smile, she turned on her heel and walked straight through the main door, as if no enchantment had ever been placed upon it.

“So, they want to put all the humans in the same little cage, huh?” I muttered once the queen was gone, earning a frightened look from Jane.

“What do you mean?” She inquired.

I bit my lip, hating to be the cynic but finding it entirely necessary. “Look, I assume you’re here because of whatever you’ve got inside of you, but you have another pretext because of your relationship with Thor. Just don’t expect this to be the vacation of your life or a wonderful learning experience, because the king of this place is going to do whatever it takes to make sure that you stay as deep in the dark as he can manage. If you value your freedom, stay away from any knowledge of Asgard or anything else unearthly that you might acquire. Finding things out around here could ruin your life.”


	7. Chapter Six

Brenna found me slumping against a narrow doorway in the servant’s corridors, a small cheat to the rule stating that I was not to leave my chambers. I was curled into a ball, soot coating my face, the stone walls around me covered in ash and brand-new cracks. The healer narrowly avoided death as I raised my hand and sent another blast ricocheting across the sconces, dislodging and sending them tumbling to the floor.

“Trying to bring down the palace, are we?”

I shrugged wordlessly, staring at the mess I made.

“Isn’t this what Frigga is trying to train you not to do?” She slid down to sit beside me, powder blue gown pooling around her feet.

“Better me sending these blasts out myself, completely in control and concealed in a place where I won’t hurt anybody, than uncontrolled in an unexpected place where someone could get killed or something valuable destroyed.”

Brenna heaved a sigh that racked the entirety of her small form. “What’s got you so upset?”

“You might want to move away before I get into explaining it.”

“I’m not going to. Consider this part of your training. Either you control yourself, or kill me.”

I stared at her, aghast. “You trust me far too much.”

Her stern eyes suddenly rounded in sympathy. “Someone has to. Frigga does, as well, but she hasn’t been giving you all of her attention as of late. And I think that is what’s upsetting you.”

“It’s not the attention that bothers me.” My fingers curled around a jagged stone that had been digging into my hip and I tossed it into the depths of the hall with an experienced flick of the wrist, just as my father had taught me. He and my sister before me had been great athletes, and he expected the same of his youngest daughter, training me in all forms of ball sports from the time my hand could fit around one. However, when I decided at a very young age that the sports bored me to tears and I would rather devote my attentions to ballet, I burst into his office weeping, afraid he would be disappointed, but he only said he couldn’t possibly be prouder that I had a mind of my own and wouldn’t let what others thought I should do affect what I wanted to pursue. Those memories now seemed so distant, as if they had happened to someone else. I suddenly began to wonder what my family’s lives were like, under the spell that erased all traces of my existence.

“Then what does?” Brenna pressed, jolting me back to reality.

“It’s the freedom Jane’s getting.” I toyed with the hem of my gown, grateful that its color was that of dusky taupe for it camouflaged the physical repercussions of my tantrum, which came in the form of dislodged dust and debris. “I understand that she’s a prisoner just like I am, but she’s still seen so much. She’s been to the grand library, in the courtyards, she’s-... she’s walked around. She’s not caged like some dangerous animal.”

At night, since neither of us could sleep, Jane Foster and I would sit cross-legged on our beds as if we were children at a slumber party and exchange stories of our experiences in the alien world we were trapped in. She told me of each of her endeavors with Thor, elaborating greatly on how beautiful the palace and outside world was. She would often talk of her romance with the supposed god, and even though I harbored no romantic feelings for him myself, I would hold onto every word, living vicariously through her, for I knew that if I could never go outside again, I would surely never find love of my own.

At least once a day, Thor would knock on the door of our chambers and take Jane away for some other outing, leaving me to literally bore myself to death. Frigga tried to attend to my control training in that time, but she was horridly busy, what with two students on her hands, and Jane seemed to be of higher priority. After my fellow mortal would return to our wing of the palace, she would immediately be swept off for another training session that lasted long into the hours of night. I couldn’t quite place why, since that was attention I hadn’t particularly craved in the first place, but I felt so neglected. And on top of that, I felt as if Jane was seen as a victim that needed help, while I was treated like a dangerous, unconsolable criminal, even though our stories were almost completely the same.

Just that my means of acquiring supernatural powers almost killed me.

“I don’t know if this will make you feel better, but…” Brenna pressed her tongue to her lips. “They treat you like that because they’re afraid of you. You’re powerful. You can kill people. Jane’s just… she’s a host body. You are that energy that moves within you. You have the ability to control and wield it, if you’re trained properly.”

I chuckled through tears I never even noticed falling. “Like some sort of sorcerer?”

Brenna laughed along. “I suppose so, if that’s how you wish to think of it.” She studied me for a moment, a half-smile lighting up her features as she extended a hand. “Come. Frigga sent me to fetch you.”

I allowed her to pull me to my feet and I paused to wipe my face clean before following the healer to the queen’s chambers, where she was educating Jane further on the substance attached to her.

“Where was I?” Jane questioned, brushing slightly mussed hair behind her ear. “When I traveled between worlds by accident, where did I go?”

Frigga answered willingly and truthfully. “We do not know. After the Dark Elves were defeated, my father-in-law ordered the Aether be stored away somewhere where no one would ever find it. Only he and the men who delivered it knew the location. And, conveniently, those men died fighting a small, week-long rebellion quite soon after. It’s a widely discussed conspiracy that Bor ordered them killed. Then, the king himself died before he divulged his secret hiding spot to any other.” Frigga pushed Jane towards the nearby fainting couch, where she nearly collapsed. “Rest, child. I think you’ve had enough for one day.”

“How much danger am I in, now that I have this inside of me?” She continued to interrogate.

“You needn’t worry about that. You’re protected here.” She turned and spotted me. “Ah, you’ve arrived at a perfect time. Shall we begin?”

With a wordless nod, I replaced Jane and took my stance before the queen. I had somewhat mastered the trigger portion of the training, so we decided to move onto the next step in my mastery of my skills: emotion control. Frigga, sometimes using magic, would evoke some extreme emotion from me: anger, sadness, fear, sometimes even happiness, and I would attempt to suppress the energetic emission that would accompany it. It was quite taxing for both of us, and I hated feeling aggressive towards one of the only people concerned with my interests. Sometimes she would morph herself into someone else in order to make it easier for me, but sometimes I thought that it only made it much harder. I was already exhausted from my private tantrums earlier that day, so as the session began and Jane snoozed on, I could only glance at her from the corner of my eye and wish I was doing the same.

“Now,” Frigga declared after a short-warm up. “I’m going to change myself into someone that could bring a very strong reaction. It is dangerous for me to be doing so, but it is entirely necessary if we ever want to give you full control of this power. Don’t fear for my safety. Brenna is stronger than she seems, and all three of my handmaids are also trained fighters. In addition to that, there are two guards outside of the door. They will not let you harm me, if it comes to that.”

“No, no, I-,” I shook my head frantically as anxiety-induced sparks buzzed and snapped from the tips of my fingers. The stress seemed to be exercise enough. “Frigga, I don’t know who you’re going to turn into, but no matter how good of a fighter everyone in this room is, they can’t stop a blast of energy. I could kill you.”

Brenna rushed over to assist. “Don’t let it get to that point. Control yourself.”

“This is not the day that I die,” Frigga added with absolute certainty. “You just have to trust yourself. That is the root of all of this.”

I closed my eyes and inhaled, paying close attention to how my body moved and shifted as I let out the breath. Stay calm, I coached myself. You’re not going to lose control. Whoever she shows you, you’re going to detach from whatever feelings you have towards him or her and control yourself. You’re going to fight this. You’re going to beat this.  
I signaled to Frigga that I was ready, and she surrounded her body with a blue glow. It engulfed her form as she grew taller, and when it faded, her golden hair was black, her blue eyes green, and her gown the youngest prince’s attire.

My breath caught in my throat. It was almost as if she knew the feelings I was battling where Loki was concerned; that I was torn between hopeless infatuation and maddening hatred. I turned my head away so I did not have to see her studying me with his eyes, burying my face in my own shoulder, blinking back tears and clenching my fists, attempting to do away with my raging emotions.

“Camryn,” Frigga’s glamour commanded his bewitching voice, “look at me.”

“No,” I choked out. “Please, no. This is going to end badly.”

“Are you going to let that happen?” He taunted. “Come now, surely you haven’t forgotten what I did do you. Wouldn’t you like to look me in the eye and see how little I care for your life? Wouldn’t you like to achieve revenge?”

If I listened only to the voice, rage pooled in my stomach and I felt my form begin to hum with energy. My feet would shuffle in preparation to stampede him and not even bother with my power; to seize the meat knife I kept strapped to my thigh and plunge it through his throat. But if I raised my eyes and looked upon his face, all I could do was picture what he would look like if his expression was empathetic and a mirror of my own attraction, and how his arms would feel around me, keeping me safe from myself. My body began to vibrate, and I knew that I would lose control at any second. I was just about to turn on my heel and storm out to where I couldn’t hurt anybody when a distant alarm began to sound.

Frigga’s illusion slipped and Jane jerked to full awareness. The feeling that I was going to explode dropped away and each of the handmaids stood stone still. The room fell silent, no one even breathing as we listened intently to the successive blares.

“What is that?” Jane gasped, pulling herself from the sofa.

“Should we be frightened?” I chimed in, willing myself to not let any form of that emotion take hold of my senses.

“Absolutely not. That is the alarm for the dungeons, so it’s likely just a mild skirmish,” Frigga assured with a well-practiced air of calm. “I will go and find out, though, just to be sure. Stay relaxed, both of you. I’ll return shortly.”

“My queen.” Brenna stopped her as she made for the door. “Do you think it’s…”

Frigga shook her head, sadness creeping into her eyes. “By all the gods, I hope not. I had enough trouble convincing Odin to spare him the axe once. I doubt I’ll be able to do it again.” With those words hanging in the air, the queen took her leave.

I captured Brenna’s arm as she moved to go assist the maids in the precautionary securing of the room. “She was talking about Prince Loki, wasn’t she?” I demanded.  
“So what if she was?” The healer jerked free.

“I can’t have him around me, Brenna, it’s too dangerous. I can’t control my feelings about him. What I do with my power in his presence could bring the whole palace down, and kill everyone in it.”

“That didn’t happen the last time you tried to kill him,” she stated frankly. “Now calm yourself down before I dose you with a sedative so powerful you’ll not be conscious for a week.”

With a disgruntled huff, I turned on my heel and stalked away.

“What happened between you and Loki?” Jane questioned as we gathered around Frigga’s breakfast table, an obvious trope to distract herself.

I held her eyes for a moment, shaking my head. “You don’t want to know.”

We were left to wait, unknowing, for what seemed to be an eternity but, in reality, was likely no more than twenty minutes. Despite the maids’ assurances that a prison break really wasn’t something to worry over, I had a horridly ominous feeling, and I just knew that what was happening was something much bigger. My suspicions were confirmed when Frigga burst through the door, shutting and latching it as securely as possible.

“My queen, what is it?” Toril called, nerves creeping into her usually cool tone.

“This is an invasion,” Frigga replied. “Odin attempted to tell me otherwise, but I saw right through that farce. This is serious.”

“What are they after?” Brenna stepped forward, her grim expression making it clear that she was determined to stay stoic.

Frigga took a deep breath. “They’re here for Jane. The Dark Elves have returned for the Aether.”

Jane stumbled to her feet and shook her head warily. “I don’t want anyone to die for me. What can I do to help?”

“You can do exactly as I say, with no questions,” Frigga declared. “I need to begin preparing you as soon as possible . However, I’d like to have a word with Camryn first.”  
“What do you need me to do?” I queried, eager to assist, to finally use my curse for something.

I was disappointed.

“You can stay hidden,” she began. “No matter what you hear, no matter what you think may be going on, under no circumstances are you to use your power. No one but us must have knowledge of the nature of your abilities. If you become known to outside worlds, you will be captured and have unspeakable things done to you, and you will likely be turned into a weapon used to destroy entire realms. I am not going to let that happen. This is more important than any of your exercises. It is imperative that you succeed in controlling yourself.”

“I-I understand,” I stammered, and before I could think, she shoved a handmaid’s uniform into my arms. 

“Put this on. If any of the invaders happens to find you, you are one of my staff. The girls will vouch for you.”

I hurried to comply, and she continued.

“I want you to promise me that you will not leave the place where I put you, and that you will not use your power.”

I nodded rapidly. “Of course. I promise.”

Satisfied, she then led me to a secret chamber behind the walls of her closet, a ten foot by ten foot space with a low ceiling, containing a bed and two chairs, along with a shelf holding necessities such as first aid supplies and rations. I was ushered inside and left to get situated as Frigga went to attend to her business with Jane before putting her in with me a few minutes later. The maids and Brenna were heading off to attend to medical emergencies, and it was they who shut us in, leaving the only two mortals on Asgard in the dark with no company but each other and nothing to do but listen for disaster they could do nothing about.

An unmeasurable, agonizing amount of time passed before we heard the telltale sound of the doors to Frigga’s chambers bursting open. Jane and I held our breath, and she gasped when it became clear that there was a fight going on. The sickening feeling of something bad about to happen settled in my stomach, and my mind reflected on my promise, while my instincts battled it, compelling me to break it. Yes, I said I wouldn’t use my powers, but I knew that I would never forgive myself if I let Frigga come to harm, knowing I could’ve done something to stop it. Ignoring Jane’s pleas to stay, I pushed out of the chamber and rushed up to see what was going on.

Some great, towering creature, nothing like anything I had ever seen before, had his large arm sealed around Frigga’s neck, suspending her off the floor, a sword held threateningly at her side. Frigga seemed admirably unfazed, and stared down a man that would be humanoid were it not for skin as white as white could be, queer eyes, and pointed ears. 

After a few moments of listening intently to the goings-on, it became clear to me that the two creatures meant to kill Frigga. With all the emotions coursing through me, I knew that if I concentrated, I would be able to control my power enough to get rid of the both of them and release her. It felt like my duty, and if the two were dead, no one would be the wiser about my power. It was just imperative that I did not fail. Kneeling down, I took inventory of each of my feelings, picturing them funneling into each other to become one; to become my power. When the tingle came to my fingers, it was different from what it had always been. It was not a scattered buzz, as if I had unleashed a hive of bees, but it was concentrated, as if I had pulled back a bowstring. It was ready to be released, to strike its target. Now was the time. I decided that I should start with the one holding Frigga, and take care of the pale one after. My aim would have to be perfect...

Please don’t, Frigga’s voice echoed in my head, and I startled out of my preparative actions to see her staring right at me, shaking her head, the slight movement conveying a surprising amount of earnest. This is not your fight. I don’t want you revealing your power and condemning yourself on my behalf. If Valhalla calls to me, I must answer.  
But I can help! I insisted mentally, hoping that she heard. Please, I don’t want to watch you die knowing that I could’ve done something.

You are doing something, she assured. You’re fulfilling my final wish of keeping yourself safe.

The sword plunged into her side and she dropped to the floor, lifeless.


	8. Chapter Seven

“Camryn?” The door shut resoundingly, the sound rippling through the chambers, but I barely noticed it. My hands stayed securely locked around my legs and my nose remained buried in my knees, dried tears tightening the skin of my cheeks. I said nothing.

Jane called out my name again, her footsteps coming closer before halting awkwardly, shuffling in place as she shifted her weight back and forth. I could sense her debating with herself whether or not to approach in the hopes of comforting me, but perhaps she didn’t know how.

“You’ve barely moved and haven’t spoken since… you know,” she reminded softly. “I’m starting to get worried.”

Squinting my eyelids shut as if I could erase the images in my mind’s eye with the action, I turned my head away from her, grimacing; remembering.

When Frigga fell, I had dropped to my knees along with her, engulfed in an instant storm of grief and guilt. Shock overtook my senses, and for a moment I thought that I was screaming, only to realize that the cry I heard was too deep to be my own. I raised my head with enormous effort and discovered Thor bursting into the chambers, letting loose his fury on the enemy and almost trampling me in the process.

As he gradually calmed and joined Odin and Jane in mourning over the fallen queen, I remained in a stupor, unable to move. In fact, I was so silent that no one even noticed I was there; not until Inge came over to fetch something to clean the blood from the floor. She discovered me and knelt beside my stupefied form, speaking in a soft voice in the hopes of reaching me. Her efforts were unsuccessful, but the king, wandering around the chambers in a trance-like state, heard and found me out. He called Inge away and departed, and after a few short moments three guards entered and approached, seizing my still unresponsive self under the arms and dragging me back to my chambers, where they placed me on the bed and left me alone.

The moment my body hit the furs, the spell of shock was broken. With a great shot of realization, I curled into a ball, my mouth falling open, shrieking sobs escaping it. Frigga was dead, and it was my fault. I had all the power in the world to save her, to smite those about to kill her, but I didn’t. I shouldn’t have listened when she said to stand down, because in the end, those two monstrous creatures would be dead and she would be alive, and no one the wiser about my abilities. Even if she would have gotten angry and locked me away, at least she would still have breath in her body to do so.

The worst part about my outburst was the fact that grief was only a small part of the reason for it. Yes, I adored Frigga and felt I had a strong connection with her, but I hadn’t known her long or well enough to mourn her that intensely. I was devastated because of my own all-consuming guilt. A wonderful person was dead because of me, and I was the horrible person that lived in her place.

Eventually, I cleared my throat, forcing myself to glance anywhere but my knees, but I could not bring my eyes towards Jane. Instead I looked to my bed, and was not surprised to find it destroyed once more from my fits.

“You haven’t been back in a while,” I eventually observed.

“No, I’ve been staying with Thor,” she confirmed. “He hasn’t really wanted to be alone lately. He handles himself so well in public, but…” she trailed off. “We’re going to the funeral tonight.”

“Let me guess: I’m not invited.” I turned my head to see Jane shaking hers apologetically. “Well, do whatever you need to do and get out. It’s dangerous for you to be in here with me right now. You should probably talk to the guards about changing rooms, too. I’ve lost control of my power again and I’d hate for you to get caught in the middle.”

She did so without another word.

After a bit more crying, my eyes finally burned so much that I couldn’t possibly keep them open any longer. I furiously rubbed them for a few moments before resuming my old position, and I knew no more.

 

When I peeled apart my sore, heavy lids, I was surprised to find myself situated comfortably under the covers of my newly-repaired bed. I shot up quickly in alarm, and discovered Jane sitting cross-legged on hers across the room, fiddling with the duvet.

“I thought I told you that you shouldn’t stay in here anymore,” I barked, a bit harsher than I intended.

“We’re in the same boat, though,” she explained. “Apparently Thor’s mother was the only one rallying for my freedom with actual power in the matter. I’m a prisoner, now. I’m not allowed to leave this room, either.”

“Oh.” I was too mentally exhausted to summon up anything more sympathetic. Instead, I motioned vaguely to my bed. “Did you…?”

Jane shook her head. “The doct- sorry, healer, and one of the queen’s maids came in and fixed it, then tucked you in. They also gave you some sort of medication while you were sleeping, to keep you calm and hopefully control your emissions.”

“Well, that’s probably good, considering you’re locked in here with me. Wouldn’t want our two mystery powers colliding with each other, would we?” I sucked in a large gulp of breath, attempting to come up with something vaguely amusing to say. “They left us no form of entertainment, did they?”

“Nope.” Jane popped the p sound, and it echoed for a moment, even though the room was compact and furnished. “I guess we’re just supposed to twiddle our thumbs and stare at each other for however long we’re here.”

“Typical,” I sighed wearily. “Well, there’s a library not too far from here. Hopefully Brenna visits soon and I can bribe her into bringing us some books.” Even though snuck away through the secret passages to the library before, I had been caught, and I dreaded to think what might happen if anyone besides the queen discovered me violating my strange breed of house arrest.

“I just wish I had some of my equipment with me,” Jane declared. “There are so many amazing scientific advancements here that are part of their daily life, but would be groundbreaking and in the news for months if they came to Earth. I wish I had a way to properly document things in the hopes of bringing them there.”

“That’s right, you’re an astrophysicist, aren’t you?” I checked, and she nodded in reply. “My parents pushed me towards a scientific path like that, but I resisted them with everything I had and turned to the arts instead. As for me, I wish I had a couple pairs of good pointe shoes and some nice marley flooring to dance on for some healthy emotional relief that doesn’t involve me breaking or burning the object nearest to me.”

Jane chuckled lightly, but turned serious again. “You know, it’s funny how we humans dream so often of coming to a place like this, but we get here and-”

“-it’s not that great,” I finished loudly, giggling.

“Exactly! It’s horrible for us!” she agreed around her laughter.

“Though,” I added, “if the circumstances were different, I think I’d grow to love this place. It’s beautiful, and has this amazing timeless quality that resonates in its people. It’s incredibly advanced, yet retains this wonderful sense of traditionalism that’s necessary if they don’t want to destroy themselves. Meanwhile, the human race is so fixated on technological advancement that we forget to retain things that hold us together. We could learn something from these immortals, if only they would let us.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I agree.” Jane’s expression turned thoughtful. “Your parents were right. You should have been a scientist, or at the very least a philosopher.”

“Trust me, I shouldn’t have.” I chuckled, enjoying the change of mood and light conversation. “I would never be happy, because I only enjoy intellectual things when they’re on my terms. I need thrill to keep me going, so that left me with either a career on the stage or as a roller-coaster tester.”

Another bout of laughter came over us. “You should be excited to try the Bifrost, th-”

Jane was cut off by a guard entering the room brandishing a tray of food and boasting a bored expression. She declined it, suddenly deadly serious, if even a bit dejected.

“We’re not hungry,” she declared.

The guard was suddenly thrown to the floor by a striking, dark-haired woman garbed in armor and furs.

“Good,” she appeased, beckoning towards the opened door with a tilt of her head. “Let’s go.”

Both Jane and I made to stand, but the warrior woman shook her head at me. “Not you,” she ordered. “Just her.”

Disappointed, I deflated back onto my resting spot, but as Jane fumbled for her coat she pushed the dinner tray towards me.

“Eat,” she suggested. “I know you haven’t since the day the queen died.”

And with that I was alone once again, left to twiddle my thumbs in solitude.

 

To prevent my mind from racing to places I would rather it not go to, I began to pace about the chambers, taking great care in observation, mentally describing each little detail as I would in a book as a meager form of entertainment. The towering main door was the last thing I came to, but it suddenly seemed different somehow, in a subtle way that made all the difference in the world. I stepped closer to investigate, peering at it more carefully than ever, feeling like I was seeing it for the first time.

It was the same unornamented gold as always, with the same large, round knob as always, but it was duller somehow, as if it had lost a great bit of its shine and aged years in the past days. On a queer hunch, I haltingly put my hand out and gripped the edge of the polished knob, turning it slowly so as to not make any noise. To my great surprise, it rotated all the way, and the door glided open to reveal the entire corridor at my disposal. Had the woman who came for Jane broken the spell that previously prevented me from performing that action? Had the guards and palace maintenance, in their grief for the queen, forgotten to restore it? Or was the spell Frigga’s work, and once she died it died with her? Only one thing was for sure: this was likely the only chance I would get to leave my prison chambers and explore the palace at last.

I made no plan to try and escape completely, for I knew that it would be foolish to even attempt. However, I figured that Jane’s jailbreak most likely had the sentries distracted and looking for her, so it was a perfect opportunity for me to learn about where I would be imprisoned for the rest of my life. Giddily I scurried over the threshold, until it occurred to me that I had no idea where I wanted to explore first, or how to even navigate the place.

I did not have to wonder long, for once I realized that fact, I blinked and a blue thread of a trail, exactly identical to the one that led me to the library what seemed like so long ago, appeared and snaked down the corridor to the left. I followed it eagerly, traipsing down a few flights of abandoned stairs and into an area of the palace with completely different interior design, until approaching voices implored me to immediately duck behind a dark stone column. The trail continued to slither out in front of me, however, and once the owners of those voices rounded the corner, it attached itself to the heels of the person furthest from my position. Even though I knew it was impossible that they would, I prayed they did not see the Tesseract’s guiding ribbon.

“This is so unlike you, brother,” a silky voice tinged with glee declared. “So clandestine. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just punch your way out?”

“If you keep speaking, I just might,” a deeper and more rugged voice grumbled, and I knew instantly who it belonged to.

“Thor?” I whispered to myself, risking a peer around the pillar to discover him hurrying down the hallway with purposeful steps. But it was still a mystery who was beside him, the one the Tesseract seemed to desire that I encounter, his form concealed from me by Thor’s bulky figure. They continued down the hall hastily, hosting a loud but indistinct conversation, until all of a sudden Thor pushed his companion against a column identical to the one I was hiding behind, allowing me to discover who it was.

No. How could the tesseract lead me to him?

I quickly whipped back around, sinking to the floor with my hand clamped over my mouth. I needed to leave, and now, before the rage and upset that somehow always occurred around Loki won out and I revealed myself. I stood up to sneak away from the scene, but all of a sudden an invisible force hooked itself around my stomach and spun me around, forcing me to follow the departing forms of Thor and Loki. I fought it with every ounce of strength I had, but it kept pulling me along, like a dog on a leash, until it flung me against another column that gave me a crystal-clear view of Loki pacing languidly as Thor fought off a legion of guards. Dammit, why did I have to be so attracted to a man that tried to kill me? I felt the pull in my belly again, and I knew I was about to be propelled right into him.

“Oh, no no,” I muttered aloud, staring down at myself as if the force inside of me was a feasible being. “If there’s ever a time more imperative for you to be controlled, it’s now.”

But why? Another part of me crooned. Look at him. Wouldn’t you just love to kiss him?

“No!” I shrieked, still in a whisper. Whether I was talking to myself or the Tesseract, though, I had no idea. “He tried to kill me. No matter how attractive he is, that’s unforgivable.”

You might change your mind if you’d just watch.

That side of me won out once again, and it forced me to move to a pillar closer to Loki and jerked my head up so that my eyes were fixed upon him. I watched how he moved with an impeccable feline grace, seeming to glide rather than walk along the floor, observing the fight unfolding before him with all the misplaced critical serenity of selecting an apple at the market. His hands were in front of him, bound with chains, but they still looked so elegant, and I knew that if they were on me they would know exactly where to touch.

And how to kill me. Suddenly the warmth that encased my form and seemed to send my feet floating inches off the ground, an effect not unlike those of the divine-tasting champagnes served at galas, was replaced with red-hot rage. Loki’s way of being hopelessly attractive and suddenly seeming to encompass everything I could possibly want in a man was clearly some sort of trick, a predatory tactic to lure me in so he could cruelly finish the job he started. I felt my hands begin to raise up and point towards him, palms first, poised to deliver the blast that would kill him before he could kill me.

Approaching footsteps a few yards to my right broke me from my bewitchment. My hands dropping and burning feelings fading, I glanced over and noticed Jane and the female warrior from earlier hurrying towards the scene at a fast pace. I was just out of their eyeshot, but had only seconds before they would discover me. My mind became clouded with panicked thoughts as to what I should do. My being found out would be disastrous, but I couldn’t move, either. If I sprinted from my hiding spot, I would only be found out that much sooner, but if I stayed still, my discovery was inevitable.

I was about to be launched into a fit of full-blown panic when the hall around me disappeared in a great gust of electric blue air, and with a jerk I was promptly deposited back into my chambers, as if I was a doll being picked up and dropped in a different room of the house. I risked a glance down at myself and noticed that I was surrounded in some sort of blue flame, yet it was fading quickly, snaking towards the ceiling in tongues of smoke before dissipating completely.

“Did I just teleport?” I murmured to myself, staggering to my feet. It appeared that I had, for I was completely drained of energy. As I attempted to stand, black flooded my vision, heat washed over my head, and my muscles went limp beneath me so that I stumbled back onto the floor. I tried once more, confused and frightened by this sudden bout of sickness, deciding I needed to reach the bed so that I could lie down and compose myself. When my feet were able to bear most of my weight, I took off running in that direction as fast as I could manage, and I was vaguely aware of my head hitting something soft as I collapsed into a pool of darkness.

 

I don’t know how long I swam there, teetering on the edge of consciousness, my body asleep but my mind always halfway alert. I wanted to move, to find a more comfortable position so that I could perhaps rest fully, but I could not manage to transfer the messages from my brain to my limbs. I instead remained at a standstill, constantly peering out into a never-ending void of blackness.

I don’t know if I remained in that state for hours or seconds, but all of a sudden a blue glow replaced the black emptiness, parting like two curtains until I seemed to be floating over the throne room in which I was condemned not too long ago, looking down on a grave scene.

Odin was hunched over on the steps leading to the destroyed throne, though it could hardly be called that any longer, for the seat itself was missing, leaving nothing but a jagged chunk of stone in its place. The king was surrounded by a legion of guards, and one of them brandished a bit of parchment before him, pointing out certain lines of text. The old man muttered his approval, eventually sending them off. As they departed, however, a new guard approached, bowing anxiously at the foot of the staircase ridden with debris.

“I return from the Dark World with news,” he declared, and Odin turned with an arduous motion to face him.

“Thor?” He queried wearily.

The guard gave his head a single shake before hanging it dejectedly. “There’s no sign of Thor, but… we found a body.”

The king’s form tensed, then relaxed. “Loki.”

The vision faded, and my senses soared with exuberance. One of my biggest burdens had been lifted, and I felt as if my justice had been dealt, whether it was by my hand or not. Overcome with joyous relief, my body was released from its paralysis and I was able to roll onto my side and get comfortable, plunging into the most restful sleep I’d had since my arrival on this alien world.

When I awoke, I was laying on the cold, unforgiving floor of a cell.


	9. Chapter Eight

“What?” I breathed, the utterance barely audible, raising my head and glancing around the perimeter of the cell I awoke in. In my distress, a great wave of power emitted from my form and rushed over the area as I bolted upright, but the force of it unfortunately did nothing to free me from my confines. The cell was lined in a seemingly spell-resistant glass that shimmered golden when my energy collided with it, and despite the fact that the whitewashed walls and flooring of the interior made the area seem quite airy, that feature did nothing to lessen the terrifying effect. 

Trying desperately in all of my panic to harness the teachings I received from Frigga, I directed another blast of energy at the shield in the hopes of summoning enough momentum to shatter it, but the emission only ricocheted back into me, throwing my body against the opposite side of the cell. Dejected, I pulled myself to a sitting position once more, the sharp pains shooting up my spine preventing me from rising any higher, and was suddenly met by an out-of-sight voice tutting at me.

“You’re going to hurt yourself if you continue on that way,” the disembodied words stated in a sardonic tone. “There’s no way out from that side.”

“Who are you?” I demanded, furtively scanning the area visible to me for the source of the words. “Show yourself!”

“Now, is that a tone you should be taking with me?” With his words lingering in the air, Odin appeared seemingly out of nowhere, rounding the corner and planting himself before my cell with a stance that I found extremely uncharacteristic: hands clasped behind his back, shoulders pulled tauntingly backwards, and heels rising slightly off the ground, a smug smile shaping his bearded mouth, a contradictory look of cold hatred in his eye.

“You’re…” I hesitated. “You’re not Odin.”

“Now, that’s quite disrespectful.” The supposed king cocked an eyebrow. “Here I am, standing right in front of you, and you have the audacity to say such a thing.”

Taking an enormous risk, I continued to elaborate on my previous words. “You can quit with the act. I know you’re an impersonator, because disregarding the fact that your appearance is spot on, your mannerisms and words couldn’t be farther from the king’s. I can count the conversations I’ve had with him on one hand, and yet I know that there’s something horribly inaccurate about this picture.”

“Well, you certainly are a bit more intelligent than I previously thought. After your idiotic attempt to strangle me to death, I was beginning to doubt your qualifications to possess such a power as you have. However, don’t go thinking too highly of yourself, now, for I kept my personal mannerisms as a way to test you. If I were truly impersonating this filth, you would not be able to tell if anything was amiss, because nothing would be.” The king’s form shimmered like a mirage for a moment before growing leaner and taller, and the moment a green glow surrounded his figure I knew that when it fell away it would reveal Loki. My heart jumped into my throat and my blood ran cold as I attempted to distance myself from him as much as possible, longing for the walls behind me to disappear so that I might push myself farther away.

“No,” I eventually gasped out in a trembling voice, hurtling towards a temperament that bordered on hysteria. “That’s impossible. I heard them; I heard them say you were dead!”

“I understand that many concepts are far too advanced for mortals, but I never thought that lying would be among those.” Loki mounted the steps that led to the cell and paced the perimeter without ever entering, languidly following my crazed procession to escape him, clearly toying with me, calm enjoyment shaping his frustratingly attractive features. “Quite a bit has happened since you’ve been asleep, which has been a few days yet, but that is to be expected. Teleportation isn’t particularly energizing, especially for those who are new to the practice. Tell me, did you enjoy your first experience?”

“You stay away from me!” My hands flew up to protect myself as he came within an arm’s length of me, and though I could not tell whether I meant to or not, as I hurtled away in the other direction I released a great burst of energy, though it only had the same effect as before, rebounding right back into my chest and swiping my feet out from under me. The prowling predator before me chuckled darkly, the sound resonating from deep within his throat.

“You are continuing to be very disrespectful of your king, little one. If you keep this up for much longer I’m afraid I shall have to punish you.”

“You’re not king!” I spat, wiping blood from my dripping nose with my index finger.

“Oh, but I am.” Loki flashed me a nefarious grin that sent fear coursing through my veins, weighing me down like lead. “Odin is dead, and Thor has officially abdicated his title, so the throne falls to me.”

“Dead?” I echoed, dumbfounded, that one word the only thing I comprehended from Loki’s previous sentence.

“Yes, dead. He was already old and feeble, and the queen’s death paired with an apocalyptic war nearly broke him as it is. It was merciful of me to kill him.”

That broke me from my stupor. “No,” I wailed, my forehead falling on the floor as I broke into sobs. I most likely resembled a child having some sort of temper tantrum, but at that moment I paid my behavior no attention, only attempting to riddle through the mystery of how I would stay alive and escape when Loki inevitably decided to kill me. “No, no, no, no, no!”

Though he kept up his act, Loki seemed genuinely startled by my reaction.

“I’m surprised you mourn the man,” he commented. “After all he’s done to you?”

“He was a horrible person,” I moaned into my hands, “but anyone is better than you!” When I raised my fist to point, another shot of energy exploded from my fingertip, but this time I was expecting the repercussions and ducked out of its way.

“Well, I have to say, that’s likely the truth in your case. While Odin hated your very presence on Asgard, he would have allowed you your previous living space and perhaps assigned you another teacher, the reason being that it’s what Frigga would have wished for. However, I loved her more dearly than he ever did, and I won’t be so blind as to let her death go unavenged. I’ve already carried out most of that task, and you are the last to have had a hand in it that remains alive.”

“‘Had a hand in it’?” I sputtered. “You surely don’t think that I-”

“You may not have put the sword into her side, but what you did was as good as,” Loki snapped, his visage failing, rage shaping his features and raising the volume of his voice, his eyes seeming strangely afraid. “You were right there, so close yet out of the enemy’s sight, with power that could have smote them in an instant. You knew that they were going to kill her, yet you just stood there and watched, not lifting a finger to help her.”

“I was going to,” I argued. “But she told me not to. She begged me not to reveal myself.”

Suddenly Loki launched himself towards the transparent walls of the cell, slamming his fist against the glass. I started, and with my jump came a short pulse of energy from my entire body, causing the lights to flicker. He paid no attention to the incident and continued to rant in a tone more animal than human.

“Oh, look at that, the precious new student. The little trainee didn’t want to save her supposedly beloved teacher for fear that she would be angry with her. You coward! You didn’t deserve her kindness and generosity. She gave you everything she could and then you just let her die!”

With all of my guilt and everything I felt concerning the matter leaving the mouth of someone else, I could not formulate any argument to his words, but I did not have to, for my emotional overstimulation launched me into another vision like those my power was wont to inflict upon me. 

Before my eyes unfolded a scene of the very dungeon I was in, but it was obvious that the events I was about to be shown took place in an entirely different sector. From above, I watched the abominable creature that killed Frigga approach a cell tentatively, staring down a figure I soon realized to be Loki. The two did not break eye contact for what seemed to be an eternity, the tension between them so intense that it seemed to hum aloud, until the creature faltered, raising his fist before turning away. Just as he was about to leave completely, Loki’s face grew knowing, and the smirk that previously shaped his lips grew wider.

“You might want to take the stairs to the left,” he offered.

The vision swirled together like mixing paints and shifted to reveal the course taken as the creature followed those instructions, and, after destroying the palace’s defenses, needed only to step into the next wing before he reached Frigga’s chambers.

When I jolted back to reality, my anguish turned to malice, and it was my turn to grin evilly and deliver biting words.

“You’re blaming her death on me?” I barked out a short laugh, feeling detached from myself, my words seeming to come from a different person. “If you hadn’t given that thing directions, it never would have found her chambers as soon as it did. By the time he arrived, help probably could have been there to better protect her, if it was needed at all.”

Loki let out a wordless shout, striding away from the cell, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.

“You dare-” he began to roar, but broke off. For a moment I thought I noticed a tear on his cheek, but he turned away before I could be sure. Sucking in a deep breath, he faced me once more, speaking through a clenched jaw.

“I do hope you’ve said your goodbyes,” he hissed. “Because you die at dawn.”

Loki departed immediately after that, but his words remained, resounding within my head, filling my being with regret that I ever opened my mouth. Whether it was because of what I said or not, I was scheduled for execution the next day, and I had ruined whatever small chance I had of talking him out of it. I had fought so hard to stay alive in spite of the wounds he inflicted upon me and my depressing situation, only for all of that to be undone as he finally finished the job. And to top it off, I had no idea what horrible afterlife would await a person like me, who had done, or failed to do, the things that I had.

“No,” I eventually declared to myself, mind reeling. “I’m not going to let that happen. I have this power, and it’s high time it became useful.”

Fighting against my own emotions and fear, I attempted to clear my mind and focus my energy on just how I teleported previously. I wasn’t sure if it was because I truly didn’t remember or because the cell somehow prohibited any action of the sort, but I simply could not resurrect the feeling that indicated my efforts were prevailing, and decided that if I was to escape in time, I would have to turn to using brute force in the form of blasts of energy.

At this point I allowed myself a few moments to muddle, creating a strategy in my head. I knew that simply sending them out would do nothing, and even if they did have the power to break the cell’s walls, they would still not have the momentum to do so from the way they bounced around.

“But if I got close enough to block their rebound…” I murmured, approaching the glass and placing both of my palms on the cool surface, one on top of the other. Bracing my feet firmly into the ground, I let my rage and fear consume me, and with it the energy came at an enormous rate, hitting the shield with full force, the glass turning hot and leaving blistered burns on my hands. I paid the pain no mind, continuing with all of my might until the wall finally shattered, leaving me with a path to escape.

In my endeavors an alarm had begun to whine, and a legion of guards came thundering from around the corner just as I crossed over the empty frame of the cell, heading straight for me with weapons brandished. I began to fret over the decision of whether I should run or stand and fight, but did not have to do so for long, because my power, seeking to protect itself once again, produced a great electric blue cloud to conceal me, and when it faded, I was in a forest packed onto a steep hill outside of the palace grounds. 

It was nearing the dead of night, and even from a great distance I could make out the alarm, along with the buzz of guards clamoring about to get into the palace, scattered shouts of the situation being exchanged, causing quite a rift amongst the citizens still up and about the city. However, I had not much time to sit and marvel at the scenery, for the adrenaline coursing throughout my body was preventing the teleportation from draining me as it did before, and I knew that I must take advantage of that fleeting energy and run deeper into the forest. Of where I was going or what I would do when I got there I was not sure, only concerned with saving my life and getting as far away from the palace as I possibly could, as fast as I could.

Though, much to my dismay, after I had been sprinting for what was not nearly long enough, a shout of “She’s in the forest!” thrust upon me the realization that I should have taken more precaution. Slowing my pace momentarily, I discovered that my actions in wielding my powers as much and as forcefully as I had left my skin radiating a blue glow, and with every step I released a new pulse of power, a beacon in the darkness for those pursuing me. Rain began to pour down upon me as I turned on my heel and once again ran as fast as I possibly could, driven forward by the sound of heavy feet a distance behind me, attempting to formulate an alternate escape plan as I went.

“Fools!” Loki’s shout cut through the clamor and drumming of rainfall. “She’s too fast and too far ahead to catch her this way. I will fetch her myself, and you meet me once I get there.”

My heart jumped into my throat and my stomach dropped to my feet at his words. Halting abruptly, I realized that running was futile. Glancing to my left, I discovered a tree with low-hanging branches and knew that my best chance of availing him would be to climb up and hide amongst the abundant leaves, but before I could even turn to make for that direction, Loki materialized before me, a familiar green glow framing his silhouette. He was perched upon a great black stallion with eight legs, his disheveled raven locks dripping from the rain, a bolt of lightning illuminating his imposing form as he seethed down at me. I froze in fear, willing myself to turn and continue running, but my legs refused to obey my commands. I stood petrified as Loki swung one lengthy leg out of the stirrup, approaching me in a single stride, gripping my jaw between his fingers so hard that my heels rose off the ground, searching my face as he would a specimen in a lab, lips slightly parted.

“How did you break the shield?” he murmured, more to himself than me. “Perhaps I acted too hastily by ordering your death so soon. You could be of use to me after all.”

“My king,” a guard panted as he approached, an enormous search party in tow. Loki’s gaze shifted to the new arrivals, and as he released his grip on me, I momentarily crumbled to the ground, hand flying to my already bruising skin. “What would you like us to do with her?”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Loki declared to the group. “Cancel her execution, and return her to her cell.”

“She…destroyed her cell, Your Majesty,” the leader of the party reminded.

“Well, then, put her in a different one,” Loki snapped, then calmed. “A concealed one, preferably. I don’t want the other prisoners to know what she can do. I don’t want anyone to know what she can do.” The sectional ends of his surcoat swung about as he made for his strange steed, mounting with an ethereal grace. As he directed the horse back towards the palace, he glanced over his shoulder, addressing the guards fastening me into chains. 

“Oh, and make certain you don’t wear her out. I plan to start on her in the morning.”


	10. Chapter Nine

My new cage was worse than my last one.

Loki’s guards had thrown me deep into the bowels of the dungeon, at least ten flights below the cellblock I was quarantined in before. The space was sectioned off not by glass but rather stone, and when the solid steel door was shut, it was so dark it felt as if I was floating in an endless void. 

I could not see a single thing, let alone the interior of my confines, so I merely crawled about on the floor, hand outstretched until my fingers brushed a jagged wall. I followed the path of it to find a corner, situating myself into its meager comfort and rocking myself back and forth, sobbing at the knowledge that I would go mad doing nothing for the rest of my life but staring into crushing darkness and going through whatever Loki wanted to “start on me”. It was at that moment I realized that I had come to a point I never thought possible: where my devastation and fear had become so strong and consumed me so completely that my powers did not work at all.

When Loki threw the door open the next morning and discovered me like that: collapsed in on myself with tears cascading down my cheeks and mucous smeared across my face, he scoffed in disgust and flicked his wrist. As he shut the door behind him and sent an orb of light to the ceiling for illumination, an unseen force seized me by the hair and dragged me about until I stood at attention before him.

“I’ve no patience for your weeping,” he warned. “Continue on that way and my teaching methods will become less than humane.”

“Why do you want anything to do with me in the first place?” I dared myself to mutter. After all, the answer to that question was one I deserved.

“Oh, I don’t. I only care about that power in there.” Loki pressed an index finger to my chest, though thankfully due to my rage and panic, it did not at all raise the frustrating tingle of attraction. “Now that I’m king, I need to create new defenses for Asgard. You will become my perfect weapon.”

“I’ve no interest in becoming-”

That unseen force lashed out again, striking me so hard across the cheek that I collapsed onto the ground. As I laid there, twisted about myself, I raised timid fingers to the burning spot. I dared not look back at Loki, but instead tried to calm myself and took advantage of the light to study the space I would likely be confined in for the rest of my life.

The cell was wide and deep, its dimensions probably near to a twenty-foot depth and a fifty-foot width. Whether this was because it was to double as a training area or because it was designed to drive me mad by rendering me lost and wandering in the darkness until I died, I had no idea.

The entire interior was made from black stone, though those forming the walls were cut messily, leaving sharp bits sticking out everywhere. My eyes found the spot where I had huddled earlier and with a jolt I discovered a bit of darkened blood glistening there. I cast my eyes downward and discovered a dirty cut on my palm, the pain of it most likely masked by my panic.

As I procrastinated turning back to Loki for as long as possible, an idea dawned upon me. If I could somehow reach the sweet spot where I calmed so that my powers could return but was still emotionally distressed enough for them to be at their strongest, perhaps I could kill Loki, or at least render him unconscious, and then escape. Of course, I hadn’t succeeded in killing him the first time I tried, but there were quite a few things I had learned since then.

The guards might not be in such quick or intense pursuit of me if they didn’t have their king commanding them. Maybe if I teleported straight from the cell I wouldn’t raise an alarm, but in case I did, I could transport myself even farther from the palace, perhaps even to a different city.

But would I be able to decide on a destination if I didn’t know it? Would I even be able to consciously teleport in the first place? If I could, shouldn’t I just aim for home? Perhaps when Frigga died her spell was broken and I would be able to return to my old life as if nothing happened, and if the enchantment was still intact I could create a new identity. Being unknown on Earth sounded preferable to being hunted and mentally tortured on Asgard. But would I even be capable of inter-world teleportation? Surely it was very dangerous. Was I willing to take that risk with the life I had fought so hard to keep?

No, I decided. I would teleport away from the palace, and if I couldn’t do so consciously hopefully my distress would do it for me, then get as far away from the capital city as I could. There I would either find a way back to Earth on my own or seek out someone who could help me get there. With my plan mapped out, I drew in a deep breath and slowly pulled myself to my feet, raising my chin and staring directly into Loki’s eyes.

“This process will most definitely not be an enjoyable one for you. The more cheek you give, the more you disobey, the longer and more gruesome this is going to be. I can make quick work of this or I can draw it out to years; the result will be the same.” Loki’s eyes glinted with a warning, but the cruel grin that shaped his lips displayed that message even clearer.

I swallowed, attempting to make my voice as meek and compliant as possible. “And what will that result be?”

He reached forward and captured my chin in his hands, turning my face this way and that. “When I’m finished with you, you won’t even remember who you are. All that will be in your mind is killing, destruction, and what I order you to do.”

His words sent a lurch of fear through my stomach and my power pulsed once around my form as a reflection of that, flooding the cell with blue light. Loki jerked his now-burnt hand away with a hiss, but the sound turned into a chuckle that turned my heart to ice.

“Now that’s what I’m looking for,” he declared softly, then turned away to pace before me as he continued to speak. “By the time you’re trained, you won’t even remember how you received your power, let alone your own name. Do you have any suggestions as to what we should call you instead?”

I have to get out, was the only thought I could clearly form at that point. IhavetogetoutIhavetogetoutIhavetogetoutIhavetogetoutNOW. I tried to do as I had been taught, visualizing all of the racing emotions I was experiencing tucking themselves into a ball, imagining that ball in my hand as I thrust it towards Loki. However, I had taken too long in my preparation and he was anticipating the blast, ducking swiftly out of the way when it came towards him.

“We’ll have to remedy that,” he decided calmly, stepping closer to me once more. “That blow took you far too much time to form, and I knew exactly what you were about to do long before you did it. That will have to be changed if you’re ever to be successful in battle.”

“Thanks for the tip,” I muttered, stepping backwards and aiming another blast towards his head, but my hand was shaking too severely and it instead went over his shoulder, missing him cleanly.

“Oh, do control yourself,” he coached, coming even closer still as I continued my frantic retreat backwards. “Bad aim is an amateur move.”

I eventually tripped over my own feet and as I fell to the floor I let out another blast in an attempt that I believed to be futile. However, it hit Loki square in the chest and sent him reeling back a few paces, which encouraged me of my ability. I sent a considerably more powerful stream of energy from my other hand, and when the force of it and the instability of my position knocked me backwards, one even came from my bare foot. Each and every one of the bursts hit home on Loki’s body, sending him to the floor. I took that opportunity to get up and run, but before I was fully standing he lurched to his feet, lip curled and animalistic rage shaping his features.

His next move was unbelievably subtle yet effective: a single twitch of his fingers and all of a sudden my arms were glued to my sides and my legs were stuck together, my body completely paralyzed. With an emerald blast of his own magic he sent me to the floor, where I could do nothing but pulse with energy. With another, he sent me flying into the wall, only to render me falling the ground, sending knives of pain through my shoulder.

“You insolent little-” he broke off to send out another, stronger blow, throwing me up and down. I felt the flesh on my back begin to be torn to ribbons on the uneven wall. “You will obey.” Another blast. “You will comply.” Another. Eventually the pain began to be too much and my resolve broke.

“Please,” I begged. “Please stop, I will!”

“Why should I?” He began to send out a new blast with each word he spoke. “It’s- all- your- fault! It’s- your- fault- she’s- dead!”

Luckily my power then came to my rescue, sending out a gigantic pulse that sent Loki flying into the opposite wall and breaking his spell on my body. He attempted to rise to his feet but I was on him in a second, giving him a taste of his own medicine with my electric blue blasts.

“Why do you hate me so much?” I demanded in a furious yell. “What did I ever to do to you?”

Loki spat and wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. “You did try to strangle me,” he replied with cheek.

“No, it’s not that. Tell me what the real reason is.” My voice rose to a shrill scream. “TELL ME!”

The next blast I sent out was surprisingly not a blast at all, but rather a thin sliver of light, much like the one that helped me find my way to where I wanted to go when I rendered myself lost. It snaked across the room until it reached Loki as he attempted to stand, flowing into his eyes and turning them the same shocking blue color that mine adopted when I used my power. He jerked backwards from his task as if electrically shocked, sitting rigidly straight with a blank expression until he crumbled in on himself, slumping dejectedly as I stood over him, my chest heaving with heavy breaths.

“I don’t hate you because you attempted to strangle me,” he murmured in a voice so pitiful it almost conjured sympathy from my heart. “I know the Tesseract. It tries to protect itself, and it saw me as a threat. That wasn’t your fault; you weren’t in control at that moment. I know that.”

He trailed off, face crumpled with childlike sadness. I wondered for a moment how I had gotten him to comply so willingly and why he was so open with his emotions, and then I realized, not exactly knowing how I felt about it, that I had mind-controlled him.

He swallowed audibly and continued. “I also don’t blame you for Frigga’s death. I know that’s my fault. I just didn’t want it to be and sought out anyone else who could possibly be responsible. I actually admire you for respecting her enough to follow her orders all the way up to the end, even when you didn’t agree with them.” A single tear dripped from his eye and he didn’t even attempt to wipe it away, voice choked in his throat. “I… I envy you.”

“Why?” I breathed, tone considerably more gentle, my own hate for him seeming to begrudgingly dissolve by the second.

“Because you are exactly where I used to be. Before New York, I was the one that she took an interest in above all others. I was her prodigy, the one she protected from Odin’s and everyone else’s ridicule and cruel actions and taught the art of magic to. I was the one she was kind to when no one else would be. And then I- I ruined it. I betrayed her and disregarded everything she had ever taught me about being a person by chasing overconfident ambitions, and I lost her love. Though she can’t have loved me very much in the first place, because she allowed me to stay in a dungeon to rot and all of that supposed love went straight to you, someone that was so obviously good.”

As I was hit with the ton of bricks that was his revelation, my unconscious concentration on controlling his mind broke and suddenly his eyes faded back to their usual deep green, and he looked up at me with the familiar hatred that rattled me with fear. This time Loki couldn’t be bothered with using his magic, and instead seized me by the neck, slamming me against the wall and constricting my breath with an impossibly tight grip.

“How dare you control my mind!” he roared. Black spots clouded my sight, and I struggled with all of my might to gulp air through my throat that simply would not allow any through. My power shut down once more, and I made obscene choking noises as I attempted to free myself manually from the vice that was his hand, clawing at his fingers and throwing aimless kicks at his body. I felt my neck swell up over the points of pressure, but my movements did nothing but anger Loki. He pulled back and rammed me against the wall once more for effect, causing a red light to flash before my eyes until my vision turned completely black, my head seeming to float away from my body.

“How dare you?” he repeated, but I paid him no mind, for I realized I was dying. Stuck in the middle of the inner battle of whether to fight harder or simply go in peace, Loki realized it too, then seemed to remember that he supposedly needed me and let my body drop to the floor. I rolled onto my knees, huddled over as I hacked and gagged and wheezed, sucking in as much breath as I could, though every inhale and exhale was excruciating. I beat my fist against the floor in attempt to bring myself back to reality, and when my sight returned to normal I collapsed onto my side in a ball, gently probing my bruised neck, debating on whether or not to say what I knew.

“She- did- love you,” I managed to choke out, my voice strained and thin, wincing at the pain using it caused. Loki, who was halfway out the door, paused but did not turn towards me, though a tilt of his head indicated that he was listening. I gulped in a few more breaths, working up the courage to speak again.

“Before she- died, she was- giving me- orders- through- a mental- connection. She didn’t-break it off- when she- was- finished, so a whole- slew of - recent thoughts- came to- her mind- and therefore- to- my mind.” Loki turned back to me, but I squinted my eyes shut and would not continue, for the pain in my throat was too great. Too many words, Camryn, I reprimanded myself. Speak simpler.

“She- cried- every- night. She-thought- she had- failed you as- as a mother, and- hated- herself for- not saving you- when she could.” I paused to heave a bit more. I did not however, want to let on the fact that I had no idea what any of what I was saying meant, for every word made it feel as if my throat was on fire.

“She- knew- you still- loved her, no matter- what- you did. She- didn’t feel- she- deserved it- after- she- abandoned- you.” I knew it wasn’t her fault, I wanted to add, but didn’t have the energy to. Odin prevented her from saving you, saying that what she saw of you being alive was her imagination. Whatever that means. “She tried- to get you out- of the- dungeon. Odin- said he would- lock her up- in her room- if she did. She was- torn between whether- waiting- or doing and getting- locked up- would help you- more, and also- being a- good- mother- and giving- you time- to learn- your- lesson.” Each time speaking seemed to become easier it would soon get worse again. I braced myself for the last leg of my speech, promising myself relief soon.

“She- took me in- because I- reminded her- of you. She wished she- could fix- what went wrong. She felt- very guilty. She- loves you- very much- and wishes- she could have- told you so- once more- before she- before she died.”

Loki took a step forward, then retraced it. His mouth opened and closed and he raised a finger, for once at a loss for words, tears running in rivulets down his cheeks. He turned away and swiped at them furiously, obviously hoping I didn’t see them, making his way out. When he stopped just before the door, his hand on the frame, his voice was much softer than I expected, with no conviction behind his words.

“There’s no way you could possibly know that.”

And he left me for that suffocating darkness to consume.


	11. Chapter Ten

The next morning when the cell door creaked open, I scampered as far away from the white streak of light as I could, huddling in a back corner, not ready to put up with another session of Loki’s abuse. When he entered I immediately raised my hands in front of me, prepared to fend off whatever he had in store, but the king merely hovered in the doorway, face shadowed completely, a guard peeking over his shoulder.

“I won’t hurt you.” His voice was softer than I was expecting, so much so I wondered if the twisted part of my mind that was attracted to him had dreamed it. “Do you need any assistance standing?”

“What do you want with me?” I snapped. My throat still burnt with each word and my voice was unrecognizably raspy, but I was not having the same difficulty speaking as I did directly after my strangulation. “Don’t think you’re going to be able to do to me what you did yesterday.”

“I don’t plan on it,” he assured in the same calm, smooth tone, remaining completely still. Despite the fact that he was so obviously trying to keep me unafraid, the way his form was shrouded in darkness did nothing to lessen his imposing aura. “I come as an ally, and you’re being released from confinement. I will repeat: do you need any assistance standing?”

“How can I trust that you’re being truthful? How do I know this isn’t some twisted training method, or that you’re taking me to be punished for what I did and said to you?”

“Just come with me. If I lead you wrong, you have a way to protect yourself that could best an entire legion of my guards. You made that very clear last night.”

Loki took a step further into the cell, casting himself into the beam of light from the open door and alleviating the shadowy effect that surrounded him, staring down at my balled-up figure. His expression was sated, almost remorseful, and his movements were gentle and not at all threatening, but I still recoiled. He heaved a sigh.

“I’m offering to take you out of this horrid cage. I saw what it did to you after only a couple of days. If you insist upon being stubborn, I hope you enjoy the madness staying here will bring.”

I glared, not wanting to relent. Loki blinked first in our staredown, as I assumed was for strategic purposes, softening his demeanor and approaching enough to hold his hand out to me, raising his eyebrows expectantly. I did not take his fingers, merely staring at them as possible decisions reeled through my mind. Eventually I came to one I feared I would regret, fumbling to my feet slowly, using the wall for support instead of Loki’s offered arm.

Once I was upright, Loki beckoned for me to come with him as he turned on his heel and made for the door, but my heart and mind were in open opposition. I so wanted to be free, but the situation seemed too good to be true. Squinting my eyes shut and remembering his previous words about being able to protect myself, I was able to make small, dragging steps towards the exit, the entire time bracing myself for some sort of disaster or attack.

When I came into the hall, lined with nothing but foreboding black steel doors, I was pitifully blinded by the dim light, casting my arm over my eyes to relieve myself. As we began our descent out of the corridor, the guard accompanying Loki putting a hand at my back to steer me in my incapacitated state, I glanced through my eyelashes at the many entrances to many cells, wondering how many poor souls were contained in them and what they had done to deserve their detainment.

As we exited the dungeons, the gaoler left us, leaving me completely alone with Loki. At the landing of the steps that brought us to the main levels of the palace, I requested that he stop for a moment, forcing myself to meet his jade eyes and ask a question that was threatening to burn a hole through my skull with its intense need to be answered, hands already poised for a defensive strike should I anger him.

“Why are you doing this?”

Pain flashed briefly in his features, so quickly it was almost unnoticeable. When he answered, his voice had the telltale quick and strained quality of one trying to suppress deep emotion.

“It’s what Mother would have wanted. I’m spitting on her memory by locking up and abusing an innocent charge of hers. I couldn’t protect her when she was alive, so I have to respect her wishes now that she’s dead.”

When he finished speaking, he turned on his heel and began to lead the way through the palace, navigating galleries and grand staircases, taking me to unknown location. Spurred on by the plausible reason for his sudden kindness, I carefully ventured to question further.

“And… do you still want me to become that mindless weapon?”

He chuckled mirthlessly, though he did not stop his trek to look back at me. “Alas, no. That was merely my rage speaking. I do plan to train you, though, as Frigga was.”  
“Do you think that I could- nevermind.” I chastised myself. His stroke of goodwill could very well be a trick, or a fleeting decision that would be erased in moments. It would not be wise to get on Loki’s bad side.

At that moment he was a few paces ahead of me on a staircase, whirling around as I cut off. Fear squeezed my stomach and I took a reflexive step backwards, a pulse of energy momentarily framing my form. However, his expression remained composed and blank, save for the in- and upward tilt of his dark eyebrows that betrayed interest in what I decided against saying.

“Please go on,” he requested, continuing in his ascension. With his back turned, it was paradoxically easier and harder to speak to him. I didn’t have to say my next, possibly offensive words directly to his face, but I could not gauge his expressions to decide whether I would need to defend myself.

“Once I’m completely trained in controlling my power,” I began hesitantly, “do you think I could go home? Back to Earth?”

Loki’s shoulders stiffened, but his gait did not falter. I paused in my tracks for a moment, fearful that I had made him angry. But when he answered, it was in that same level tone that he had been taking with me the entire time, which relayed neither annoyance nor any other unpleasant emotion.

“Unfortunately not. Since the power inside of you is not only extremely strong, but also stems from the Tesseract, an innumerable amount of people will be after you to gain access to your abilities and do to you exactly what I wanted to do: turn you into a mindless weapon. It’s safest for you here, and, to be blunt, Asgard needs someone with your talents and cannot risk them going to someone else and being turned against us. It sounds selfish and uncaring, but the needs of my many people have to come before the preferences one mortal.”

The impersonal and brutally honest words should have held a bite, but in the gentle, sincere way they were delivered, they seemed strangely kind. As I was growing more accustomed to Loki’s usual heart-melting voice without the sharp, biting tones of anger and hatred, I secretly wondered if this legendary god was some sort of siren, for anything he said seemed wonderful. The more acquainted we became, the more he began to appear the type that would be able to make even the most horrible insult one could imagine sound like a sweet nothing.

“There will most definitely be a place for you here, though.” Finally, at the top of the stair, Loki turned to face me. I panted from the many flights we had climbed, legs burning. He, on the other hand, seemed to be completely unfazed despite the fact that he was carting around what had to be at least forty pounds of leather and metal, which nudged together in a way that elicited deep croaks from the material, a sound that sent almost aroused shivers down my spine.

“Perhaps you could be a warrior,” he offered up with a barely noticeable shrug. “That would be ideal for my purposes. But if you’ve not the stomach for it, with your infinite knowledge and near omnipotence if you choose to allow it to come forth, I’m sure we can find a spot for you on some council or another.”

“How did you know I have those abilities?” I tentatively inched closer so that I could look him in the eye. “I never told anyone but Frigga about the knowledge acquisition I had undergone.”

He flashed me a spiteful smile. “The incident last night wasn’t the first time I’ve been brought under the Tesseract’s control. I know exactly what it’s capable of. You are essentially the Tesseract made flesh, and therefore can do anything it can. That is extremely valuable. Surely you see why I cannot let you go.”

“I do.” I’d think about how heartbroken I was that I would never see my home or family again when I was alone, where I didn’t have to be so wary of my behavior and emotions lest I get myself condemned to death for accidentally murdering someone. That prospect, however, led to even more wonderings on my part.

“I just have one more question, and then I promise that I won’t ask anything else.”

Loki said nothing, turning away once again and continuing down the corridor, waving his hand in an indication for me to say what I wished.

“When I came here, Frigga cast a spell on Earth that essentially erased any evidence that I ever existed there, everything from materialistic things like photos and records to the memories of me that my family and friends had. Since she died, did the spell break?”

“No. And the way Mother casts her enchantments, it never will, seeing as she’s the only one that can bring an end to them, and the fact that they don’t break with death.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t tell if I was relieved or distraught. Every bit of my existence had been wiped from the face of the Earth permanently. My parents, my friends, my pets- their lives had been reshaped to exclude me. If I ever were to find my way back home, it would be a pointless effort, for no one there would have any idea who I was. Though it was the best situation for those in my life and made the fact that I would have to remain on Asgard bounds easier, it was still incredibly disheartening to think about.

Loki did not respond to my simple reply, but strode down the hall at an incredibly fast pace. In that instance I was very grateful for my well-above average height and long legs, for I was able to keep up with him in a dignified, albeit quick, walk, though it was still an effort to maintain it without breaking into a jog, which I doubted the tattered, floor-length gown I was wearing would allow.

As he slowed slightly and I was finally granted a reprieve, I glanced around to appreciate the beauty of my surroundings and realized that I was in a part of the palace I had not been before. It was then I remembered the order I had been given at my trial stating that I was not to see any more of the royal dwellings than those areas, as well as the fact that I was to travel between them exclusively by secret passageways.

“I thought I wasn’t to see or have any more knowledge of the palace than I already did.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them, for I was so hopeful that the ridiculous rule had been eradicated.

Loki paused in front of an intricately carved door in the midst of many identical doors, flashing me a wry smile. “And I thought you said you weren’t going to ask any more questions.”

Heat flooded my face. “Sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

“On the contrary, a bit of curiosity is healthy. I would actually be concerned if you didn’t have anything to ask.” Loki’s grin became broader, sending my heart aflutter. I resisted the urge to slap my chest to calm it.

“I think it’s a preposterous notion and one of Odin’s worst proclamations that you should live here your entire life and not know a thing about it. If you’re never going to leave Asgard, who are you going to tell its secrets to?”

My heart soared with an excitement I thought I was incapable of. If I was going to remain in this strange land forever, a definite perk of the situation was that I would get to explore it.

“Thank you so much for that, and everything else you’ve done for me today. I’m so grateful for your sudden kindness, even though I’m suspicious of the motives behind it.”

“You needn’t be,” he promised. “I don’t enjoy being in the wrong, and your words regarding Frigga made me realize that I was in the way I was treating you. Besides, you’ll never be able to learn to control and properly wield your abilities if you never feel safe or comfortable. And if you can’t control your abilities, everyone on Asgard is in danger. I need you to trust me in all of this.”

“I apologize for my next words, Your Majesty, but I think that will prove quite a hefty order, considering our history,” I admitted, hoping that adhering his proper title would soften any sharp edge to my confession. “But I’ll work on it if you continue giving me reason to.”

“Fair enough,” Loki pursed his lips and dipped his chin downwards in a nod. “I know that trust is not something that is easily earned, and I am happy to make the effort to prove myself.”

“On that note, I’m honestly surprised you trust me, the ticking time bomb, enough to be alone with me. I thought kings were never to be unattended, regardless of who they’re with.”

“Oh, we’re attended.” Loki snapped his fingers, and two guards rounded the corner to approach us. “They’ve been with us this entire time, just following at a distance you wouldn’t notice them from. I didn’t want for you to feel as if you were being escorted to anything malicious.”

Taken aback once more by Loki’s consideration, I barely noticed as one of the guards came forth to open the door we had been conversing in front of.

“These will be your chambers,” Loki announced, gesturing for me to enter and look about.

The apartments were considerably larger than the bedroom Jane and I had shared, made up of multiple rooms, all of which were bare of any sort of ornamentation or personalization. When I brought up the lack of life and color as opposed to the few other rooms I had seen, Loki promised that I would be able to add such things if I pleased.  
The quarters opened up on a long yet shallow parlor, with a fainting couch, velvet-upholstered armchair, and breakfast table dominating the room. A doorless entryway centered on the back wall led into a large, open area with no furniture whatsoever, the space quite resembling the ballet studios I had spent the majority of my time in before coming to Asgard. Loki explained that it would be my training room, cleared of its usual long dining table and chairs specifically for that purpose.

A door on the left side of the training area led into the bedroom, which was spacious yet not quite as cavernous as the ones I had been to before, boasting a handsome four-poster bed with goldspun curtains, a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, two nightstands, a crackling fireplace, and a set of glass double doors that led out onto a generously sized balcony.

Directly across from those was a way back into the parlor, and on the other side of the entry room to the chambers was a door that led into the dressing room, furnished with a simple vanity and dressing screens, the area providing access to both the bathing room and dreamily-sized closet. Before leaving to return to Loki, I caught a glance at my reflection in the dressing table’s oblong mirror, noticing the ring of swollen purple and blue bruises around my throat, redder tinged variations dotting my face, and eyes so bloodshot they seemed to glow. With the evidence displayed on my skin, it was a wonder Loki’s attempt to strangle me to death wasn’t successful.

Once I finished my exploration, Loki suggested that we sit down at the breakfast table, where an unfamiliar maid appeared seemingly out of nowhere with a tray of wine, cheese, and grapes. The young girl took the liberty of generously filling goblets for the both of us, but while Loki picked his up and took a sip, I left mine where it was, staring at it warily.

“I wouldn’t poison you,” he assured as if reading my thoughts, dismissing the maid. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so by now.”

I still didn’t drink.

“I suppose you did say it would take a while for you to trust me, but it’s important you have faith in your teacher. I will assume that title quite soon, so we have to fast-track that process where we can.” Setting his own glass down, he reached for mine and took three deep swings, Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. When he was finished and returned the goblet to my grasp, he playfully opened his mouth to show that the drink had all gone down his throat. Only then did I raise the cup to my lips and take in a sip of the most delicious wine I had ever tasted, an indistinguishable mix of heavenly flavors exploding onto my tongue.

“Delectable, isn’t it?” he smirked, noticing my pleased expression. “Asgard is known for having the best wines in all of the Nine Realms. Drink slowly, though, because it quite easily intoxicates mortals. Try some of the cheese with it.”

“You first,” I bravely declared, only half-joking. He complied without complaint, compelling me to follow suit.

As the small bit of cheese passed through my lips, I realized how hungry I was. So much had happened since I was imprisoned that I had not much time to think about food. I previously assumed my lightheadedness and weakness were only attributed to using my power in such a great quantity and almost being choked to death, but as I realized that I had not eaten a single morsel of food since my move to the dungeons, my stomach began to rumble and twist in protest at its emptiness. I eagerly went for another bite of the offered snack, along with a handful of grapes, attempting to eat them as politely as possible despite the fact that my insides begged me to shove the largest bite I could manage at once down my throat.

“You’re placed in the guest wing of the palace,” Loki explained as I continued to satisfy my appetite, perhaps anticipating my next unending stream of questions. “There aren’t any guests at the moment, so it will be very quiet around here. Almost eerily so. If you’re ever in need of assistance, there are guards patrolling some nearby corridors at all hours, and there’s almost always a maid around somewhere, save for the hours of one to four in the morning. If the issue you enlist their help for is severe enough, they have orders to fetch me.”

“And when will you be training me?” I finished off one of the hunks of cheese and implored myself to not start another. Eventually my want won out over my will and I did so anyway.

“Every day. Or, at least, every day that I can. A king’s schedule can be busy and unpredictable, with not many availabilities, but I will try to make some.”

“Do you have the same… qualifications to train me that Frigga did?”

“I’m a master of magic as she was, if that’s what you mean.”

“I thought my power wasn't magic.”

“The technicalities are the same.” Loki reached out for a grape. “As a matter of fact, I might actually be better qualified, because I have firsthand experience with the Tesseract and know the true range of its capabilities.”

“Then perhaps you could solve the mystery that’s been stumping everyone,” I began. “Why the Tesseract’s energy chose to latch onto me, and why I acquired this power.”

Loki swilled the wine about his goblet, studying me quizzically, eyes trailing over the covered spot where his scepter’s blast penetrated my body. An almost apologetic light came into his eyes, but faded as he began to speak.

“That’s a question I’ve been riddling out the answer to ever since I found out about you. Knowing what I know, I’ve deduced that the reason is most likely drolly scientific.

“Since my scepter and the Chitauri warrior’s weapon, by some twist of fate, happened to strike exactly level with each other, they left no spot for the energy sent by the blasts to exit your body. Now, both of those weapons are extremely powerful- so much so that they can take down airplanes with a single stroke, and because of that, the trauma you underwent was very much amplified and accelerated.

“In that short second the blasts were hitting you, the power, since it was so strong, managed to root itself inside of you. Whilst you were unconscious, instead of dying, your body utilized the energy of the power to heal itself, and in the process underwent a mutation of sorts, where the Tesseract’s energy fused to and changed your cells, likely bringing out a gene that was embedded in your DNA that allows for alterations such as that. It’s not entirely unheard of, and I’ve known individuals that have had similar things happen to them. Are you aware of a great oaf named Bruce Banner, that turns into an abominable creature he calls the Hulk?”

I shook my head dumbly, trying to process all of the information I had been given.

“Ah, just as well.” Loki dismissed my naivety. “What happened to you is just simple Midgardian science. No need to fret that there’s something horribly wrong with you. Do you have any other questions?”

“Just about the nature of my power. It’s been so unstable and unpredictable. I can never know when it’s going to do something out my control. Sometimes it will shut off completely, and then there are things that I can only do when I’m in major distress, and one day I’ll have a certain ability and the next I won’t. Will it be that way forever?”

“No. It will, however, continue to be temperamental until you’re well into your training. Even though your body used the Tesseract to heal itself, it sees the power that remains as a virus, and it’s trying desperately to get rid of it. The power is fighting back, which is what causes the unpredictable spikes and the inconsistencies. There’s a constant war going on under your skin, and like in most wars, the prosperity of each side will rise and fall without pattern. Once your body can accept the change it’s undergone, though it might not be an easy process, you will have full range and control of every ability you’ve previously exhibited and possibly even more. I have full faith in that.”

“Well, thank you for clearing that up for me. It makes a lot of difference to finally know what’s going on.”

“My pleasure.” Loki smiled once more, surveying me in something that could have been attraction. Even though his observations weren’t entirely unwelcome, I fought the urge to cross my arms over my nearly-flat chest.

“Have you gotten closer to trusting me?” he inquired, gaze returning to my eyes.

“I will, if I get the truthful answer to one last question.” I sucked in a deep breath, bracing for the attack that would follow my words and likely get thrown back into the dungeon. But if Loki ever wanted me to put faith him, I had to take a risk and find out his side of an unfavorable story.

“Why did you kill your father?”

“He’s not my father,” Loki growled before the words had even fully left my lips, forcefully pushing away from the table. I was momentarily confused, then remembered the healers-in-training, Gyda and Hertha, telling me that he had been adopted. The conditions of which had not been divulged to me, but based on what I was seeing, I inferred that they were not favorable.

“It wasn’t a choice! Everyone thinks that I did it in cold blood, but it wasn’t that way at all,” Loki ranted, pacing before me, clenching and unclenching his fists. I sunk down into my seat, panic-induced power snapping between my fingertips, fearful that I had set off some sort of metaphorical bomb.

“When I returned, I planned to bide my time and determine what course of action I would take next, but I had been so severely wounded at the time that my skills in stealth were not at their best. Some lecherous maid learned of my presence and of course informed Odin. Unsurprisingly, he then sought me out and ordered his guard to kill me on the spot. I was told that Mother was the only reason I wasn’t killed immediately after I returned from New York, and I suppose that his words were truer than I expected. He didn’t even have respect enough to give me a proper execution, just a messy murder like some common cutthroat. Surely you can see that I was forced to kill him immediately, as well as all of the guards that surrounded him, in self-defense; to keep the life that I regained against all odds; the life that had to have been given back to me for a reason.  
“Granted, his death was certainly something I wanted to inflict, but I had other ideas in mind as to what I would do to him first: punishments that poetically mirror all that he has put me through. Yet he stole even that satisfaction of vengeance from me. But when his lifeblood gushed out over my hands and I watched the light leave his single, pathetic eye, I enjoyed it. Oh, I did. It was the greatest feeling I’ve had in years. People look at that fact as only another arrow in the quiver of my being a monstrosity, but if they had endured the same treatment from him that I had, they would have enjoyed it, too.”

He stormed back over to me and slammed his fists against the table I was currently using as my shield, sending the tray of food rattling and wine sloshing out onto the surface. As I jumped backwards, startled, his rage suddenly became calm and calculated, but that only made him seem all the more lethal. Using his fists for support, he leaned in dangerously close, his face mere centimeters from mine, grape-scented breath tickling my chin, lips curling upwards into a closed-mouthed, wolfish grin.

“I’m not the monster they say I am, Camryn,” he declared huskily. “I’m going to prove that to you.”


	12. Chapter Eleven

“I’m not the monster they say I am.” Loki’s form was framed by a blurred golden glow as he leaned over the table, words echoing unnaturally, seeming as if a hundred layered voices were speaking as one. Something was different this time.

“I’m going to prove it to you,” he promised, the declaration reverberating about the eerily empty and expansive room.

“How?” I ventured to question, my dream self not hindered by timidity.

In a singular motion that would not have been possible in waking hours, the table that separated us disappeared and I was suspended in Loki’s arms, my body flush against his.

“In a way that I believe you will find quite enjoyable,” he murmured, leaning down and touching his lips to mine.

“Miss!” Before they could make any true contact, I was roused by a hushed voice. The shock of the moment mixed with my uncomfortable dream did not go over well, and upon my awakening I could not prevent the small yet powerful pulse of energy that burst from my body. Once I calmed and registered what had happened, I opened my eyes just quick enough to see a blonde head tumbling to the floor. Overcome with anxiety and guilt, I tore my way out of the tangled sheets and bustled over to the unfamiliar form, only to discover that the intruder was Gerd, one of Frigga’s former handmaids.

“Miss, no,” she protested before I could get a word out, ignoring my offered arm as she stumbled to her feet. “It isn’t proper for a mistress to assist her maid in any way.”

“But I’m the one that did this to you.” Despite her objections, I couldn’t help fussing over her and checking for signs of injury. “I’m so, so sorry that happened.”

“You needn’t be. I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Gerd insisted. “I startled you, even though I was explicitly warned not to.”

“Warned by whom?” I had meant to assure that my fright was not her fault in the slightest, but the question slipped past my lips before anything else could.

“The king,” she answered simply. “We’ve been in his service since the queen died, but today he decided that he could spare us to you for the time being.”

“Us?”

“All three of the queen’s handmaidens you were previously introduced to are present. Toril is drawing your bath and attending to other morning preparations, Inge is taking care of your breakfast, and I’m on tidying duty.”

“Each of you?”

Gerd let out a small, musical chuckle at my inquiries. Her high voice reminded me of a songbird’s. “We are a set, you know. A set that was awhile ago offered to your services should you have need of us.”

“I know. I just assumed that after the queen died…”

“Our lives would cease to be?” She smiled sadly, full lips turning up and bright eyes curving down. “The loss of the queen was one of the most painful things I’ve ever had to experience in my life, as it was for most of Asgard, but that doesn’t mean that everyone in her life suddenly slips into nonexistence or dormancy. She would’ve wanted us to learn what lessons could be derived from her death and then continue to live as best we could.”

“I wasn’t insinuating that, exactly.” I felt my cheeks go hot. “I just meant… The palace is under completely different rule now, so I figured that when that took effect, you’d… leave.”

“Because of the one who’s at the helm?” Shaking her head, Gerd stepped over to throw open the heavy curtains, sending sunlight streaming into the room. “The queen made certain that everyone who worked closely with her had full disclosure on Loki and proper views on him. It’s fortunate we did, because most of the staff did leave once he took his place on the throne, some even fleeing to distant realms because they were convinced he’d be a tyrant. The three of us and a few others are the only ones willing to come near him, and the rest only stay out of fear.”

“That’s so sad.” For the first time in a long while, I started to feel pity towards Loki.

“It is, isn’t it?” Gerd glided over to the wardrobe and retrieved a dressing gown that matched my nightclothes, draping it over my shoulders. “Now, I hate to be rude, but I’ve a laundry list of chores, and I wouldn’t want your morning beverages to get cold before you even get the chance to drink them, so I’ll have to request that you move along.”

And so I was ushered into the sitting room, where Inge was laying a tray with two beautifully carved pitchers, steam radiating from their spouts, and coordinating cups.

“Hello, miss,” the more familiar maid greeted without missing a beat. “I hadn’t a chance to take your breakfast order last night, so I’ll have to get it now. However, whilst you wait for it to be prepared, I’ve brought up some tea and warm cider for you to enjoy in the meantime, as well as refreshed your water jugs.”

“What is this, calling me ‘miss’?” I settled down at one of the chairs and popped the top off of the cider pitcher, deeply inhaling the wonderful scent.  
“We are officially in your service now, miss.” Inge placed an arrangement of late autumn flowers in the center of the table. “It is the proper thing to do.”

“I understand that.” I pulled both the tea and cider towards my body and poured generous portions of each. “I just thought that the rule wouldn’t be as significant when it concerns friends.” 

She froze in a half-leaning position, eyes flitting away from mine. “I did not know you considered me your friend, miss.”

“O-oh. Well, friends, peers,” I stuttered, fearing I was only making the situation worse. “What I meant was… before, I was lower than you were, so it seems a bit strange that you’re treating me as someone of… high status, is all.”

The corners of Inge’s lips tugged upward and a slight flush played at her full cheeks. “You needn’t make excuses, miss. I quite fancied the idea of us becoming friends, as well. I hope that now we now have more time to explore that possibility.”

“I do, too.” Raising the cup full of cider to my lips, I allowed myself a grin.

At that moment, however, the memories of home and the friends and family I would never see again crept into my mind. I repressed them with all of my might, still seeking for the perfect time to dwell on and weep over the matter; an organized affair my getting over things usually required. I had planned to do it the previous night, but after Loki’s almost lustful words I had been too distracted to do so.

“Now,” Inge continued as if our heartfelt interlude had never taken place, “you’re scheduled for a training session with the king today. You will need sustenance for that, so tell me what you’d like to eat and I will bring it to you as soon as our kitchens can procure it.”

“Oh, I…” My characteristic indecisiveness and social anxiety began to take over my thoughts, and I was gripped by the crippling fear of being a bother. “Well, what do you have?”

“Anything you could possibly want, we can make.”

That wasn’t helping, and I didn’t want to intrude by asking after something that would be troublesome to put together. “What does the king usually have?”

“Typically a dish of fruit, sometimes with an assortment of nuts added in.” Inge paused, noticing what I was doing. “If I may, you will require a great amount of energy for what lies ahead of you today, and the king’s usual breakfast will in no way give you that. I suggest something rich and hearty, with a hefty portion of needed protein.”

“In that case, you decide what would be best and surprise me.” I let out a breath, grateful the situation was resolved.

“Very well.” The sound of a sudden burst of running water interrupted our conversation. “That’ll be Toril drawing your bath. I’ll go check on it and make sure all is well, then be off to deliver your order to the kitchens.”

Inge disappeared into the bathing room, and after a few moments came a sharp yelp, followed by a splash of water and a brief, indistinct reprimand. When she rejoined me in the sitting room, I looked her over with concern, noticing that the skin of her right hand was very pink.

“Are you alright?” I questioned warily.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. Toril simply made the bath far too hot and I had to remedy it. Norns knows what’s gotten into her; no living creature could stand water that scalding.” Inge shook her head in exasperation, but reverted back to a cheery mood quickly. “Now, once your bath fills, Toril will take her leave, and I’m straight on my way to deliver your breakfast order, which will take about a half an hour to fill. Gerd’s duties will last a bit longer, but since you’ve not been in the chambers long enough to truly dishevel them, she should be out of your way within five minutes, leaving you privacy to bathe. I won’t offer to help you with the task, as I assume that’s something you’re not accustomed to.”

“No,” I giggled. “Definitely not.”

“A good thing, in my opinion. I’ve never understood why members of the high class think it necessary to have assistance on such an intimate and simple thing.” Inge beamed at our banter as she made for the door, Toril appearing in the room and stalking behind. “We shall reconvene soon.”

After a short five minutes of finishing my morning beverages with Gerd’s quiet bustling about the chambers in the background, I was left alone. Eager to experience the luxurious tub, I scurried to the bathing room. After emptying some lavender oil and an assortment of exotic flower petals left by one of the maids, I lowered myself into the steaming water. Despite Inge’s interference, the bath was still extremely hot, and I considered my high tolerance and extreme need for heat a lucky asset at the time.

Just as my skin grew used to the temperature and my muscles began to relax, however, it became apparent that I was not meant to ever have a peaceful bath on Asgard. The resounding noise of the heavy doors to the chambers opening startled me, and fear clenched my stomach as it was followed by two pairs of pattering footsteps. I was just in the process of debating whether the soap dish would be a sufficient weapon when the bathing room door burst open, and two sets of pale blue eyes blinked at me.

“When they said he let you out, I couldn’t believe it.”

I relaxed briefly at the sight of the Gyda and Hertha, then sought to sink further into the tub to cover myself.

“How many times do we have to tell you?” Hertha teased at my actions. “Don’t be so modest. We’ve seen you before.”

“Wait. Don’t say you’ve forgotten about us.” Gyda’s lips puckered into a playful pout.

“I don’t see how anyone could,” I replied, feeling halfway annoyed and halfway amused.

“I almost didn’t believe it when they said you were in prison. I thought that was just a cover story for your death.” As if I had never spoken, Hertha paced around the tub, taking in my form, eventually picking up my arm and observing it closely.

“Everyone thought that Loki killed you, or that your supposed power got the best of you and you accidentally killed yoursel- Hertha, what are you doing?”

The pigeon-toed twin looked up from my wrist. “They said her skin glows blue now.”

“No,” I muttered. “Just the once that I know of.”

Even though the door was already open, the next addition to the room made so strong an arrival it was as if it had been closed, only to burst off its hinges.

“When I agreed to let you girls come along for this examination,” Eir began, fixing each of the twins with an unwavering stare, “I did so that you could further your training, not find fodder to feed your gossip.”

“But we just wanted to-”

Hertha was silenced by Eir’s raised hand.

“You two are to leave this room and wait silently in the parlor until I instruct you otherwise, understood?”

With muttered replies and red cheeks, the twins shuffled out of the room. Reminiscent of our first interaction, Eir’s gaze then focused on me, eyes softening and lips pulling into a smile. I sunk even further into the tub, wishing my towel was not on a fire-fueled warmer halfway across the room.

“I suppose we’re not ever destined to have an interaction when I’m not in a compromising position,” I teased.

“I suppose not.” Eir chuckled along. “Alas, I only wanted to inform you of my presence. The king sent for me to perform an exam to make certain you’re well enough for his training. Finish your bath, and I’ll meet you in the sitting room.”

Despite her encouragement to take my time, I decided I would feel terribly rude if I did so. I quickly dipped my head under the water, hopefully removing some of the prison grime from my hair, then hurriedly dried myself and draped the dressing gown over my shoulders, tying it as I stepped through to the parlor. Once I entered the room, Eir had barely opened her mouth for a greeting when Brenna, the original healer assigned to my case, appeared behind her, pushing past the twins to lock me in a tight embrace.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” she breathed, body sagging in relief.

“Oh, um… thank you,” I awkwardly stuttered, unsure of how to reply.

“I wouldn’t have ever been able to forgive myself if the king did something awful to you. I’m still kicking myself for letting your arrest slip out of my control.”

“I had no idea you cared that much about me.”

“I tend to be overprotective of all of my friends, which is why I don’t have many. In your case, it’s very amplified. When you first woke up here, oblivious and scared, I knew I had to guide you.”

“You see, Camryn, you mean a great deal to more to some here than you’d think,” Eir interjected, eyes glimmering with a matronly spirit.

Completely overwhelmed by my own emotions, I could only comply as Brenna snappily composed herself and guided me over to the fainting couch. She sat next to me as Eir conducted a simple examination not unlike a physical, keeping me up to date on the current events of the palace, including Thor’s abdication to reside on Earth with Jane, the surprisingly (though not entirely) smooth transition to Loki’s rule, and my new place as the palace curiosity. I was just about to inquire further when Eir had to send Brenna to take the report of my clean bill of health to the king. I was halfway happy for the interruption, for any details of the palace’s general view on me would surely put my fragile emotions over the edge.

After Brenna had gone and Eir began to copy her notes down in a strange runic alphabet, the twins still silently standing by, the stillness left room for my mind to wander and a question to come to my lips.

“The king called for a medical examination to test my health before we began our training,” I started. “Are the sessions going to be difficult, then?”

“I would say so, though I would imagine it would be more mentally than physically grueling.” Eir completed her writing and set the parchment-covered tablet aside. “Though I’m sure there are other reasons, as well. He’s much more vested in you than you know. He’s quite interested in you.”

“Oh.” Before I could mull that cryptic comment over further, a knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. Eir nodded sternly for one of the twins to answer it, and Inge entered with a breakfast tray stacked with boiled eggs bigger than any I’d ever seen, sausage, warm tomatoes covered in leafy spices, and a mound of toast. The size of the plate was enormous, and I wondered if I would ever be able to stomach it all.

“That is a very wise choice of breakfast. Quite appropriate for what you’re to do today.” Eir raised an eyebrow, and Inge and I exchanged a smile. “I will admit to it being quite a lot of food, but you need it. You’re skin and bones naturally, but your time in prison has amplified that fact considerably. I’m thinking on instructing the kitchens to make certain you’re never without something to eat.”

“The food here is delicious, but I don’t think that’s necessary,” I replied with an awkward chuckle. “If all of my meals are this big, I don’t think there will be much of a problem.”

“No, I don’t think there will.” Eir’s smile broadened. “Now, I’ll leave you to eat. I hope our paths cross again soon, but not because you’re injured. Take care of yourself, but do not hesitate to seek me out whenever you wish.”

As I was once again left in solitude, I sat down to my breakfast and realized I had not received a time to expect Loki at. Not wishing to be caught in nothing but a dressing gown with my tangled hair tied up on top of my head in a very unflattering fashion, I ate as fast as I could, barely even tasting the food, then dashed into the bedroom.  
After a dispute of indecisiveness on dress that heightened my anxiety, wishing to wear a luxurious gown but realizing that a pair of supple trousers and tunic would be more practical, I rushed in improving my appearance. Once I was finished, I settled down awkwardly on the sofa, nervously awaiting the training to come. However, I ended up waiting for over an hour, doing nothing but pacing and picking at hangnails until the heavy sound of the knob turning jolted me from my clouded reverie.

“Oh,” I uttered when Loki stepped through the door, dressed not in his armor, but in lightweight garments similar to mine, his kingly status established through a leather surcoat with subtle carvings of various symbols I assumed were sentimental to him, accented with glimmering gold thread. It belonged in an art gallery, and his unusual features with their elven beauty would fit right in amongst the grand sculptures. I felt my flustered air worsening at the sight of him, gentler and more normal than I had ever seen, yet seeming even less human than before in his raw grace.

“You look rather stunned,” he commented conversationally, shutting the door behind him with a mere wave of his hand.

“I- I just expected you to first be announced by some sort of guard, that’s all.”

“Do you not remember my telling you that I wish for you to be comfortable in my presence? I doubt a soldier looking over us with a spear would help with that.”

“Then I hope you’ll forgive me forgetting to kneel in your presence, as you’ve instructed that our interactions be informal.”

When he made no reply, I hurried down to my knee, my face growing hot in embarrassment. When a chuckle sounded deep in his throat, my head reflexively snapped up, and I discovered him staring down at me with a bemused expression, eyes sparkling.

“You worry far too much.” He stepped forward, offering his hand. “That’s something we’ll have to remedy in these sessions.”

I stared at his fingers for longer than was socially acceptable, but nevertheless he never moved a muscle. After much silent deliberation, I hesitantly took his hand in mine, his skin shockingly cold. With a gentle tug, he pulled me to my feet, and we ended up as close as we had been in my dream. I awkwardly stepped back, brushing stray hair from my face.

“Thank you.”

His small smile grew wider, revealing his teeth. Without replying, he stepped over to the training room, opening the door and waving me inside. “Shall we begin?”

 

***

 

After an immeasurable amount of time spent running drills so that Loki could assess my more combative abilities, we emerged back into the parlor, both effectively drained of all energy. At the session’s beginning, I had been so nervous that I had nearly no control over my powers, but as the hours passed I was able to perform his tasks considerably well. He had intended to also test my new mental abilities as well, but after I had fainted from exhaustion in an attempt to teleport, he suggested that we resume tomorrow and take a rest for the night.

When we entered the sitting room, Toril was waiting in front of the main door, hands folded in front of her and wearing a slightly annoyed expression. It brightened when she laid eyes on Loki, and she took an insistent yet polite step forward.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” she began, “but it is past your usual dining time, and I was sent to inquire as to what you would like to do as far as schedule change.”

“Actually,” Loki looked about himself. “I think I would rather like to take my dinner here. Prepare two plates, so that Camryn may dine also.”

Toril’s breath hitched noticeably.

“Very well, my king,” she replied, and fled the room.

“I suppose I forgot to ask,” Loki commented once we were alone. “Would you like to sup with me?”

“Well, I don’t really have a choice now, do I?” I ventured to tease. “But yes. I would be honored.”

“Excellent. Now, forgive me if our meal does not consist of the things you have grown accustomed to eating here,” he continued, stepping over to the breakfast table and pulling out my chair for me. “My palate is quite different from that of the normal Asgardian one. I’d like to think it’s a more refined one, but my entire life I’ve had people telling me I should learn to eat like a man.”

Unsure how to respond, I merely settled into the chair. However, when Toril reentered the room flanked by two of the kitchen staff, each carrying a tray piled high with seafood, creatively prepared fruits, delicate vegetables and grains dressed with herbs, and other fine dining items, I exclaimed in delight.

“You share my love for more delicately and uniquely prepared food as well?” He inquired as Toril began to set the plates.

“Don’t get me wrong, red meat is wonderful on occasion, but there’s only so much you can do with it,” I replied. “I prefer less dense proteins, and things you can really be creative with and not feel sick afterwards.”

“I’m quite pleased to find someone else that enjoys such a variety.” Loki grinned. “However feminine my tastes may be.”

“I don’t think palates should have a gender, despite what you’ve been told.” I took on a more serious tone as Toril began to serve a small first course of a chilled soup and spiced crackers.

“Try making that case to the advisors of my youth,” Loki mumbled, clearly put out by the topic. I hurried to change it, but my pick of an alteration was not a smart one.

“Why are you treating me so kindly now?” I inquired. “I understand that you want me to be comfortable around you, but this seems above and beyond. It’s almost as if your original hatred for me never existed, and the air that we have right now is much friendlier than I ever expected to have with you.”

“I feel I can come to better understand your powers and their inner workings if I know more about your personality.”

My heart sunk unexpectedly at the frank reply, revealing that his kindness was all part of the grand design. My despair startled me, and I firmly reminded myself that this man was the reason I would never see my family again, and was someone I should not aspire to be friends with. Nevertheless, I fought to keep the conversation light, posing another hasty and pestering conversational change.

“Why do you keep the maids in your personal service? I thought that, in matters of being tended to, a man only needs male servants.”

“That’s true, but after the change in monarchs, the palace became what would be considered quite understaffed.” Loki retrieved his goblet of wine and took a sip. “Personally, I’m not one that requires a whole host of servants. I’m rather private, and prefer them only for necessary things. However, the Frigga’s handmaids remained fiercely loyal, and I could not just cast them out. I’ve assigned them to as many tasks around the palace as they desire to have and I can spare, and I allow them to tend to my chambers and errands and such as they have done for you. Unfortunately, the things that they are doing are at a much lower caliber than what they’re used to, but I’ve given them a considerable pay raise as reward and compromise. It’s not as if I don’t have the money for it. Hopefully soon, though, they’ll have another lady they can tend to full-time, and they can reassume their original status.”

Bile rose in my throat at the notion of asking if he intended to start taking suitors. Stomach churning uncomfortably, I sunk my teeth into a cracker to calm my nerves as Loki took a turn in changing the subject.

“I would like you to join me tomorrow so that I may give you a proper tour of the palace.”

His offer was so sudden that I almost choked, his tone identical to that of one asking someone on a date. It appeared that I was not the only one surprised at the notion, for the jarring sound of a breaking dish pulled our eyes to Toril, whose typically fair skin had taken on a bright shade of red, though it didn’t seem to be from embarrassment.

"My deepest apologies, your highness." As she bent to clean the mess, something in her clipped yet sultry tone of voice suggested that the breaking of the dish wasn't an accident. Trying to forget the unsettled feeling her attitude gave me, I turned my attention back to Loki and managed to squeak out,

“I would love to.”


	13. Chapter Twelve

“I’ve a question for all three of you,” I announced to the room, which was quietly bustling with routine activity.

Loki had left nearly half an hour ago, and the moment he passed through the doors, the maids arrived for their nighttime duties. Toril followed in the king’s steps, busying herself with cleaning up the dinner and never returning, Gerd tidied the rooms and laid out my nightgown, and Inge was preparing for bed, turning down the covers and helping me out of my clothes.

Additionally, Brenna was there to examine me, measuring the training session’s effect on my health. She and the two maids I held in good standing were present in my room as I struggled with a single thought, and I knew that if I didn’t ask them, I would have nobody else to help me.

“Surely one of us will have the answer,” Brenna decided, not looking up from her task. “What is it?”

“This sounds silly, but, what would be appropriate to wear for a tour of the palace led by the king?”

Brenna’s hand dropped from taking my pulse as she gaped at me with an incredulous expression. “You’re doing such a thing?”

“Yes. He invited me for one tomorrow.”

“That’s surprising,” Brenna commented, dark eyebrows raising.

“Why so?”

“I didn’t think he trusted you enough with your power yet.”

“I didn’t either,” I agreed. “Though I have been worried that it could be some sort of twisted training exercise, as in, ‘You must succeed or else you risk lives, exposure, and your own wellbeing.’”

“Now that I might put past him, at least as he is now.”

“I don’t think it’s that at all,” Gerd interjected, stepping over to us. “Toril told us about the invitation, and said it sounded like he was trying to court her.”

“I don’t believe that was the case,” I quickly denied. “But maybe he truly does want me to learn the lay of the land.”

“It’s only the wise thing to do.” Inge added, fluffing a pillow. “If you were to get lost and run into someone you weren’t supposed to, it could be disastrous.”

“Exactly,” I conferred, though I was strangely disappointed at all the reasons they were presenting to me, as they left me feeling unexplainably empty. “But back to my original point. I’m not used to the style here, so I don’t have any idea what would be appropriate for such an outing.”

“Something casual, of course,” Brenna insisted. “You’re not going to a grand ball. A simple walking dress will do, and not be so frivolous that you can’t move.”

“But this is the king she’s going out with,” Inge reminded. “Her appearance has to be of the utmost presentability.”

“He has seen me at very compromising times,” I added. “It’s not as if he’s under any illusion when it comes to my appearance.”

“It’s just the principle of the thing,” Inge explained. “Besides, eyebrows will be raised more than they already are if they see you walking around the palace without looking proper.”

“Are people being told I’m here, now?” I asked, the offhanded comment distracting me from my purpose yet again.

“Yes, and they’re being fed some lie as to why, should they come across you,” Inge answered. “What that lie is, I don’t know.”

“What about this?” Steering us back on subject, Gerd exited the wardrobe carrying a gown the in-between white and grey color of a winter’s sky. The skirt was layered and cinched at the waist, nicely complementing the v-cut neck. The long sleeves were a bell shape, and due to that I noticed that the inside of the dress was a deep purple, and the fastenings were pearls. The two other judges hummed in agreement.

“What about you, Camryn?” Gerd inquired, angling towards me.

“I love it. It’s gorgeous, though I do have another question.” I stepped forward to run my fingers through the surprisingly heavy fabric. “How did all of the gowns in my wardrobe get there?”

“Asgard harbors many travelers, so it does keep a stock of gowns for nobles visiting the palace should some accident occur with the luggage, but they’re mainly kept around for…” Gerd trailed off.

“Kept around for what?” I urged.

“Hostages and prisoners of war,” Brenna finished bluntly. “When you started to regain your health, I dipped into those stores and had nearly everything in your size brought out for you.”

“Well, that’s cheerful,” I muttered under my breath, though my comment was tinged with fear as I began to wonder if a prisoner of war was what I was being considered as.

“If you’re here for long enough, the palace seamstresses might prepare you a custom wardrobe, if the king approved of it,” Brenna continued, as if sensing my discomfort.

“That seems a trivial matter for the king to concern himself with,” I commented, half expecting the girls to tell me that Loki would be designing all my clothes for me.

“The supplies for dressmaking cost money, and the king is in supreme charge of that, so it has to be cleared through him,” Gerd elaborated.

“I see.”

“Someone ought to go and take this to be pressed.” Inge, obviously tired and ready for her own bed, interrupted the conversation by stepping over and taking the gown from Gerd. “When do you need it by?”

“Oh, dear.” I bit my lip. “He never told me a time.”

“Would you like me to go and find out?” Inge offered, not allowing me a chance to refuse. “I’ll take this on my way.”

***

The next morning, Gerd woke me up at eight o'clock quite gently, having learned from her last experience. My palace tour was not due to begin until eleven, but the girls insisted that I have plenty of time to eat and prepare for the outing and still have time to spare. The moment I rose, Gerd began to fuss over my hair as Inge delivered my newly laundered and pressed gown before going to assist Toril as she arrived with the breakfast tray and usual sour expression.

With my hair gently curled but not styled, Gerd released me to eat my light breakfast, requested due to the knowledge that in my nerves I would not be able to stomach much. Afterward, Toril left to take the dishes to the kitchens and Gerd finished my hair whilst I did my face at my own insistence.

Once that was completed, the girls fitted me into my gown and adorned me with a small necklace and subtle comb in my hair, dotting my body with an oil that smelt of roses and vanilla before finally declaring me ready. Reflecting on what had just happened, it seemed an odd amount of preparation for a man in front of whom I’d been in a murderous rage, distraught, maddened, and exhausted, in all sorts of unflattering an inappropriate dress, my hair a mess each time. Further analysis made me begin to feel embarrassed of the tunic and trousers I’d worn the day before, with my hair in a lazy braid, wondering if that was not the correct thing for me to have done.

“Unfortunately, we must leave you now,” Gerd declared, pulling me from my stupor. “We would like to stay and wait with you, but there’s a staff meeting we have to attend.”

“Oh.” I tried not to show my disappointment as they left, but called out for Inge just before she passed through the door.

“Yes?” She inquired.

“I just wondered how I should behave,” I replied, biting my lip.

“Like yourself,” she answered simply. “But carefully. The king is already an easily roused person, and what with everything that’s happened and his mourning, he will be especially sensitive. If he’s upset, you may come to find out that you’re not the only one that loses control of powers when emotions run high.”

“I don’t need to find that out,” I muttered under my breath as I was left alone. “I’ve seen it. And I definitely don’t want to ever witness it again.”

 

At exactly eleven o'clock, a soft yet purposeful knock sounded on the door, though the metal it was forged from caused the sound to echo throughout the sitting room. My heart jumped into my throat as I swiftly rose from my chair to open it. When the corridor without was revealed, Loki stared down at me with a pleasant expression that turned down into one of concern as he noted my slightly stunned appearance.

“What’s wrong?” He inquired, looking over my shoulder as if he could find the answer to my mood in the room behind me.

“Nothing.” I shook my head to right myself. “No guard again?”

Loki chuckled, gesturing for me to step into the corridor. “I intend for this day to be incredibly informal, so that would not have fit the mood very well. I’ve actually sent away the guards that are supposed to constantly attend me. I don’t want them hovering over our shoulders, and I’m confident that with our talents combined we could successfully ward off any threat until the nearest sentry arrived.”

At those words, my earlier fears flooded my mind, and I gulped before opening my mouth to speak.

“This outing isn’t just a disguise for a training session, is it? Some version of ‘You have to control yourself or else you’ll kill somebody’?”

“Gods, no!” Loki exclaimed in reply. “I would never do that before you were ready and risk the lives of everybody in the vicinity. That method of learning was something I experienced as a child, and I will assure you, it did no good. Besides, the palace is nearly empty, so the chances of us encountering anyone are close to none.” He offered me his arm. “Shall we begin?”

I stared at him for an uncomfortable amount of time before hesitantly reaching out and sliding my hand under his forearm, not allowing myself to relax fully. Though, even in the unnatural position I adopted as I attempted to not touch him any more than necessary, I noticed that though his arm was slender, the strength in it was apparent, hard muscles stretching under his skin and veins prominent beneath his tunic. I sucked in a breath to stop the flutter of my heart but only caught his scent, a mixture of winter and petrichor.

“You must be lonely,” I commented, forcing myself to regain my senses. “I haven’t seen anyone around here but servants.”

“That’s because there’s truly no one here but servants. The staff are the primary inhabitants of the palace at the moment. It’s quite strange; usually it’s bursting with life, nobles visiting for one festival or ball or event or the other, envoys from every corner of the universe trying to avoid numerous wars and rebellions, advisors overflowing the walls, wanting to tell us what to say to those envoys, servant’s children that are here with no purpose other than to run about…” He cleared his throat as if saddened by the memories. “Most of them left with the change of monarch, which is to be expected. However, since the switch was a sudden one, replacements were not lined up. The members of the High Council of Asgard change only with their death, though, so they’re here, but I hardly ever come across them except in scheduled meetings.” He smiled over at me. “That’s why I have you. I look forward to your training sessions as a break in the monotony.”

“Well, I’m glad your teaching me does both of us some good.”

“I’m certain it will. But besides that, I want to put in as much time as I can with you, seeing as the palace will likely return to its normal bustling state within the next moon. I want to make as much progress as we can before then.”

“What are you going to tell people if they come across me and wonder who I am?” I asked, recalling what Inge had told me. “Surely they’ll be suspicious of a strange girl they’ve never heard of living in the palace and being regularly attended by the king.”

“Yes, I had thought of that as well. I’ve decided that it’s best we say you're a visiting ambassador from another realm, Alfheim perhaps, come to observe and discuss what new advantages my traits as king would bring to the relationship between the two realms. I daresay you could pass for an elf, or as much as a human could.”

“Forgive me, but wouldn't saying I'm from Jotunheim be a better cover in the case that I randomly start glowing blue again?”

“How do you know of Jotunheim?” Loki stiffened, voice becoming pressed.

“Remember that infinite knowledge thing?”

He relaxed. “Ah, yes. I rather forgot about that.”

“Honestly, I did, too. That power only comes out every so often. Certain things will trigger a bit of information I've never heard of before but somehow know, like deja vu or a scent triggering a memory.”

“That’s something we’ll have to work on regulating,” Loki decided, leading me around a corner. “That’s possibly the most useful skill you have, and it would be ideal for you to have use of it at all times.”

“I don’t know if that would be the best idea, either,” I countered, lifting my skirts as we descended a flight of stairs. I assumed he meant to start from the bottom of the palace and work his way up, which would be part of the reason why he hadn’t pointed anything out yet. “The last time I had all that knowledge at once, I basically had a mental breakdown and became the textbook definition of insane. That was the night I broke into your cell and tried to strangle you. It was all just too much. I wanted it to stop, and my demented brain thought that killing off the cause would achieve that.”

“I had no idea that’s what was happening,” he commented, stopping at the foot of the stairs and turning to face me. “I just thought you were-”

“Possessed by the Tesseract, which was out for revenge?” I finished. “Not quite. I wanted vengeance, to be sure, but I wasn’t planning to take any action on that fantasy until that night.”

“Well, allow me to rectify myself. We’ll have to find a way for you to have that power whenever you call on it, without causing you hysteria.”

I agreed with a giggle, but just when Loki was about to open a door and lead me inside to truly begin our tour, Toril came sprinting down the hall.

“Your Majesty,” she panted, nearly frantic. “Someone’s been in your chambers; they’re completely ransacked.”

Loki perked up at that, unwrapping his arm from mine and stepping towards the maid. “Do you know who it could have been? Did they take anything?”

“The guards saw no one, and I found your rooms a complete mess when I came in to clean them, not a state you would have ever left them in,” she replied. “As for stolen items, I don’t know your inventory well enough to say. You’d better come and observe the situation for yourself.”

“I suppose I should.” His attention returned to me, expression apologetic. “I’m terribly sorry that this tour was ended before it even began.”

“That’s alright,” I assured, though I was a bit irked that I had spent so much time worrying and preparing for five minutes of interaction.

“No, it’s not,” Loki insisted. “Come to my chambers later tonight, and we can talk of a time to reschedule. Could you find your way back to your apartments unassisted?”

“Yes, I- I think so,” I replied, watching dumbfounded as he quickly strode away before I could even fully finish speaking. Toril lagged until he had rounded a corner, waiting just long enough to flash me an ominous smirk before following.

 

***

A few hours later, at a time approved by Gerd and Inge, I made my way down to Loki’s chambers, Inge escorting me upon my request. When asking her to accompany me, I told her that her purpose was to help me find my way, but, in reality, I needed her for moral support. When we arrived in the wing of the palace that housed the royal rooms, she nodded towards the entrance to Loki’s chambers and slid around the corner as I stepped up to it and knocked.

The door was opened with startlingly great force and revealed Loki with a rage-ridden expression that did not soften as it usually did when he saw me. Instead, it hardened considerably, lip curling in contempt.

“Did you find out who ransacked your chambers?” I inquired, hoping that was the source of his anger. “Did they take anything important?”

“It was nobody. I left my balcony door open by mistake, and a hawk got in. Everything is accounted for, just a mess.” His voice was dangerously low and cold. “And you are required by law to make use of one of my proper titles when speaking to me. It’s also customary to kneel or bow, but it’s already too late for that.”

“Oh.” In all our interactions, hostile or not, that rule had never implemented before. In fact, it had been openly opposed “Well, Your Majesty, I came here upon your request to agree on a time to reschedule our palace tour for.”

“That most definitely will not be happening,” he spat with a scoff. I had no response other than to stutter and crumple my features in confusion.

“I can’t believe how I’ve been deluding myself,” he continued. “You’re the same monster that stood by as my mother was killed. You might as well have delivered her death blow yourself. I hate with every fiber of my being that I must keep you here so that I don’t risk my own safety, because I’d rather never see your face again. I should have executed you when I had the chance. I should have drawn it out and made you suffer as much as you’ve made everyone on Asgard suffer. As much as my mother suffered.”

Before the door slammed in my face, Toril peeked over from where she was tidying a disaster of a room, smirk growing into a malicious grin.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

"What was that?" Inge demanded, rushing up to where I stood, petrified and dumbfounded, before Loki’s door.

"I-I don't know," I replied, my mouth seeming clumsy and swollen, tears stinging the backs of my eyes.

"What just happened definitely warrants an explanation." Inge pushed past me and rapped powerfully on the door, but it was opened instead by Toril, regarding us with an innocent expression of expectancy, thin eyebrows raised.

"Toril, let us in," Inge commanded. "This is utterly ridiculous."

"I have orders not to." She flashed a mock sympathetic smile. "I believe the king’s exact words were 'under no circumstances do I ever want to see that piece of filth again'."

"Toril, what is this about?" Inge pressed. "Why are you being this way?"

"Orders, Inge. I told you." She shrugged delicately. "I imagine that you could understand, being a handmaiden yourself. These matters are out of my control."

Inge's mouth shrunk into a scowl. "Come along, Camryn," she beckoned, her voice thick with suppressed rage. "You don't need this. Let's go."

She looped her arm through mine and stormed down the hall at a rapid pace. I scrambled to keep up, the tears that now flowed freely blurring my vision.

"What happened?" Gerd inquired with concern as we burst into my chambers. Inge transferred me to her grasp, and the gentler maid guided me to the sofa and sat me down. "I heard doors slamming down the hall... why are you crying?"

"I...I-" I attempted to answer, but my shock turned to guilt as I continued to relive my last interaction with Loki, and I erupted into a fresh bout of tears. Gerd rubbed my back, shushing me gently.

“Inge, what happened?" She questioned in a low voice, almost as if I wasn’t supposed to hear.

"I don't know. I was watching from a distance. The king spoke to her with a harsh tone and a frightening expression, then slammed the door in her face, but I didn't hear what was being said."

"I see. Hold on just a moment."

Gerd left my side and exited the room, Inge sliding into her place on the sofa and wrapping a strong arm around my shoulders. We sat in comfortable silence, permeated only by my sniffling, until Gerd returned, slipping a small cup into my hand.

"Some hot cider to calm you," she explained. "It will have a bit of a kick; I put some mead in."

I took a sip, staring down at my lap and attempting to regulate my breathing. Gerd’s and Inge’s comforting hands on my back only made me cry harder, though, so the process of my calming took longer than I would have liked.

"Something in him just...snapped." I wiped my nose on the napkin Gerd brought with the cider. "One moment, I thought he had finally warmed to me, and the next he was right back where he started. He said he wished he would have executed me before getting involved in my training and that I might as well have killed his mother myself..."

"What could have possessed him to suddenly act that way?" Gerd wondered. "I thought he had made peace with the fact that Frigga’s death was no fault of yours."

"I hesitate to make this accusation, but I have a feeling that Toril had something to do with it," I added. "It's just the impression I've gotten from her, and the horribly smug look she gave me as he slammed the door in my face..."

"She has been acting strange lately," Inge put in. "I think you might be right."

"But how do we find that out?" Gerd exclaimed. "We can't very well just go up and ask her."

"I know how," Inge declared. "Get up, you two. Let's go."

"Inge. Surely you're not..." Gerd's expression turned stern, her chin lowering as she shook her head.

"Yes, I am. It's the only way we can do it."

"What if he comes in? You know he visits her chambers quite often."

"He won't. He's too busy skulking right now, by the sound of it."

“I’m sorry, but I’m very lost here,” I interjected as Gerd relented and they guided me back into the corridors, which had taken on an eerie reddish glow in the darkening evening. “Where are we going?”

“As the closest maids to the queen, we were required to learn some basic seidr, or sorcery, so we could help protect her if need be,” Inge explained. “However, my father was from Alfheim, so I was more naturally predisposed to it than others. When the queen noticed my talent, she graciously assisted me in developing my skills. In time, I was able to master a spell that could recreate past events right before your eyes. However, that spell requires the use of a magical brazier, like the one the queen summoned images on during your training sessions with her. Only two exist in the palace: one in the king’s chambers, and the other in the late queen’s. We obviously can’t just burst right into Loki’s rooms, so Frigga’s it is.”

“I’m still a bit lost on why we need the brazier in the first place,” I admitted.

“I’m going to conjure up what happened to the king between the time when you parted this afternoon and when you came to visit him, and see if Toril was in any way involved with his change of heart.”

“Oh. I see.” I squirmed uncomfortably in the maids’ light grasp. I still struggled immensely with my own thoughts that I was partly responsible for Frigga’s death, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see how someone else was brought to that conclusion.

As we entered the queen’s chambers and the girls navigated the rooms expertly, their path almost taking me on a tour of the apartments, I was hit with an overwhelming wave of nostalgia. Everything was at it had been the day she died, not a single object moved an inch. For a brief moment, I half expected the queen to emerge from around the corner to begin our next training session. The guilt began to consume me anew, and I fought the urge to turn and sprint away, out of the palace, out of the city, fleeing to who knows where.

“What’s wrong, Camryn?” Gerd inquired as Inge busied herself with readying the brazier that formed the centerpiece of the relatively barren room Frigga used for performing magic, furnished only by a tall bookshelf and a towering standalone cabinet, its contents concealed by curtains embroidered with runes, the rest of the space left open for her practice.

“It’s just… everything is the exact same as it was when she was alive. I figured the chambers might be emptied after her death, to make room for a new queen.”  
“It is a bit strange that it hasn’t been, because that’s usually the custom,” Gerd agreed. “The king put the staff under orders to continue cleaning it to perfection, but not to move a thing.”

“I suppose grief makes people a bit mad,” Inge commented. “Are we ready for this?”

As Gerd and I nodded, Inge waved her hand, green streams of light dripping from her fingertips, and an image of Toril materialized atop the brazier, slightly transparent, framed in a faint golden glow. She glanced over her shoulder, movements slightly muddled in the illusion, as if she were moving though honey, then proceeded to make a crazed procession of Loki’s bedroom: throwing the contents of a table onto the floor, tipping a bottle of wine onto a wolfskin rug, destroying the canopy of his bed, slashing his curtains, and knocking over a bookshelf. When she was finished, she threw the door to the balcony open, flashed her work a proud smile, and dashed out of the chambers.

“Why would she do such a thing?” Gerd gasped with a hand over her mouth.

“Wait,” Inge insisted. “There’s more.”

The illusion shimmered and twisted until Loki appeared in the room with Toril, surveying the damage with a look of quiet annoyance and dejection.

“It’s such a shame I had to cut my engagement with Camryn short all because of a hawk,” he tutted, his voice echoing strangely.

“I’m surprised you want to deal with her that closely at all,” Toril replied, her frustratingly pink lips curving downward in distaste.

“What do you mean?” Loki swiveled to face her, dark eyebrows knitting together.

“Well, after what she did to your mother, neglecting to help her…”

“I spent a long while struggling with that assumption, but after speaking to her, witnessing her guilt, and hearing her side of the story, I finally concluded that Camryn had nothing to do with it, and couldn’t have helped even if she wasn’t following my mother’s orders not to.” Loki settled down on his bed, elbows falling to his knees, and, in a gesture that I’m sure was highly inappropriate, Toril sat down beside him.

“Perhaps you should backtrack from that conclusion,” she suggested. “You see, my king-”

“What are you doing here?”

The visage disappeared into a green mist as the three of us yelped, jumping around to discover Loki hovering menacingly in the doorway, nostrils flared, shoulders tipping forward to make him appear even larger, and fists clenched. Gerd’s mortification had practically turned her to a stone and energy snapped at my fingertips in my fear, but Inge bravely stepped forward, determination shaping her broad features.

“We came here to attempt to discover why you suddenly turned on Camryn again,” she declared. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but Toril is toying with your mind, and bringing such things to your attention to put herself at an advantage.”

“You ought to know that a master of manipulation cannot be manipulated himself,” Loki scoffed. “She merely reminded me of what I so carelessly disregarded. That monster is part of the reason why my mother is dead.”

“Even if she is, can’t you see that the guilt is eating her alive?” Inge gestured backwards to me and my tearstained face. My heart leapt to my throat at the acknowledgement, and as Loki’s gaze twitched to mine, I couldn’t maintain the contact, and my attention dropped to the skirt of the lovely gown I put on that morning with such hope.

“You’re the one that’s trying to maximize her ability,” Inge resumed. “Do you think you’re going to be able to do that if she doesn’t even want to use it because she keeps blaming herself for something she couldn’t have helped? Even if she tried to save your mother, it would have caused a bigger mess than if she didn’t.”

“I gave the express orders that she was not permitted to leave her chambers,” Loki reprimanded, disregarding Inge’s argument. “Since you two have removed her, I ought to throw you in the dungeons for disobedience.”

“You most certainly won’t, though, because the palace would fall apart without us, since you’re too busy living in the past and fretting over whether or not the people will accept you to actually do any real work.” Inge reached over and took my shoulders, bringing me to her side. Gerd followed, Inge’s confidence wearing off on her, her chin raised in quiet defiance.

“Now, you’re going to step aside and let us take her back to her chambers. When we get there, you’re going to leave her alone, and stop blaming her for things that are clearly not her fault.”

As the three of us pushed past the king and made for the exit, his mouth opened and closed as if he wanted to say something, a vein pulsing in his forehead as his jaw clenched, but he said nothing. As we entered the halls, though, an enraged growl and a crash followed us, and we broke into a sprint, eager to escape his fit. As we finally crossed the threshold of my apartments, Inge detached from our chain and seized the bottle of mead Gerd used in my cider, gesturing for us to sit around the breakfast table.

“Thank you for defending me,” I croaked as I crumbled into one of the spindly chairs, taking my cup and drawing in a hefty gulp.

“Be careful with that,” Gerd warned. “It’s quite strong, especially for mortals. I barely put any in your cider, and it still managed to subdue you quite quickly. It won’t be long before it has a very strong hold on you.”

“I’d hope so,” I snorted. “I want to forget all that’s happened today.”

“I don’t understand why Toril would do something like this,” Inge growled, pacing the room and nursing her own drink. “She’s never been particularly friendly, but this is just cruel.”

“You have to remember that she’s always been a bit sweet on the king,” Gerd put in. “Perhaps that has something to do with it.”

“It would take more than simply being ‘sweet on him’ to want to do something like that,” Inge countered. Only halfway listening, I poured myself another drink and drained it in two swallows.

“We should bring her here,” Inge decided. “Hear what she has to say for herself.”

“Inge, she won’t say anything,” Gerd counseled. “She’s not one to do something that could get her punished. She’s not a particularly remorseful soul.”

“She’ll say something if we know how to compel her to.” Inge slammed her cup down on the table and bounded to the door. “I’ll be back.”

Watching her go, Gerd moaned into her hands and I reached for the bottle once more.

“Not for you,” Gerd scolded, taking it from my grasp. “You’re cut off.”

“I think I deserve one night of drunkenness,” I protested.

“You don’t know how your power will react if you’re intoxicated.”

“Well, think of it as research,” I debated. “Loki and everyone else is so fascinated with figuring out how it works, so this is just one more lesson.”

With concerned resignation in her nut-brown eyes, Gerd’s grip on the bottle loosened. I took it from her and refilled my cup once again, thrilled that I could already feel my cares slipping away.

“Oh, I wonder what Inge’s going to do to her,” Gerd groaned, taking a delicate sip from her own glass. “I can’t wait any longer. The suspense is going to kill me.”

It appeared she did not have to worry for long, for not a minute after voiced her desire for the waiting to be over, a muffled cry of “Take your hands off me!” carried to us from outside the door. Gerd heaved a sigh and let her head fall onto her hands, and Inge burst into the room, dragging Toril in by her middle.

“Ouch, Inge, you’re such a man,” Toril complained, kicking her feet and attempting to pry Inge’s hands from her waist. “Put me down!”

Inge complied by shoving her into a chair, using the belt from her uniform to tie her down.

“What is this about?” Toril screeched.

“Why did you ransack the king’s chambers to get him away from Camryn, and then manipulate him into again believing that she was at fault for the queen’s death?” Inge interrogated.

Toril sputtered. “I thought it an insult to the queen’s memory that the king was drawing so close to and becoming fond of one who was partly responsible for her death.”  
“That’s ridiculous,” Inge spat. “You never cared a bit for the queen. You only aspired to be her lady’s maid because you were the daughter of a whore and you knew that was the closest you could get to having a position of power.”

“Then what are you insinuating my reasoning was instead?”

“Ever since you were a girl, you’ve been besotted with Loki. Perhaps your feelings for him went too far, and you now feel threatened by anyone that grows close to him. Mysterious things have always happened to girls he’s set his sights on.”

As Toril snapped out another reply, my attention span wandered until the voices around me began to fade into the background. With the alcohol clouding my brain, the questioning of Toril seemed particularly tedious to me, and I decided that I wanted to conduct an interrogation of my own.

Gerd and Inge were concerned with Toril, and Toril with them, so it was not difficult to slip out of the chambers unnoticed, needing only to sprint to the door and open it a smidge, shimmying out and taking care that it shut soundlessly. Once out and engulfed in a space where it was hushed enough for me to think, drunk enough to have courage but not so much to be incoherent, I stomped audibly to Loki’s chambers. When I arrived at his door, I didn’t even bother knocking, for I knew he wouldn’t answer, so I merely burst it off its hinges with a blast of my power, striding blindly into the midst of the apartments.

Loki, who had been stewing in an armchair with a goblet of wine, focus intent on the crackling fire, leapt up at the intrusion, a dagger appearing in his hand with a flash of green.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded.

“I’m trying to riddle you out,” I shouted back, storming to the center of the room as if I owned it.

“Are you drunk?” he questioned, eyes narrowing.

“Yes. Why else do you think I’d be in here?” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t keep up with you. Initially, you accused me of being responsible for your mother’s death, and then you say you’ve forgiven me and start treating me nicely and trying to make friends with me. But once I finally get used to that, you go back to blaming me, saying you should have killed me when you first met me. It makes my head spin. I deserve a damn explanation for this inconsistency.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” he growled, stepping forward to hover threateningly over me, managing to dwarf my tall form in a way very few people were able to.

“Yes, you do!” I screamed, rising on my toes and shoving him backwards. His resolve cracked slightly at my rage, mouth falling agape as he followed my push and sidestepped to provide me with a wide berth to pace. “Tell me the damn truth, or I swear I will mind control you again.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” The center of his lip drew upwards into a sneer, baring a sliver of his teeth.

“Would you like to make a wager?” I pursued his path, hand extended threateningly, pressing closer and closer until we were mere centimeters apart. He turned away with a wordless snarl, tangling his fingers in his hair and clenching his fists so tightly that veins began to protrude.

“I found myself getting close to you, growing attached,” he answered through clenched teeth. “I can’t let that happen.”

“Why not?” I roared. “Is it because I’m mortal, and I’m too lowborn for you to associate yourself with? Or is it because I’m only here for the purpose of becoming a weapon, and I’m not even supposed to be treated like a living thing?”

Loki’s tone grew quieter, his mannerisms of rage quieting as his arms dropped to his side, shoulders rising and falling with a heavy sigh as his eyes widened and his tense expression softened and expanded. “It’s because I...I-”

“Because you what?” I screamed, my voice breaking as I seized a small, decorative pot full of some sort of herb from the mantle and hurled it after Loki. He ducked to avoid collision, and the jar smashed into the wall instead, instantly shattering and sending crushed leaves across the polished floor, the clatter of the pieces of clay hitting bottom bringing the atmosphere to an eerie silence.

Loki had no answer, and instead stood staring at me, the only sound in the room coming from my heavy, ragged breaths. After a few agonizing moments of searching my form, his eyes focused intently on mine, and, without a word, he stepped forward, took my face in his hands, and smashed his lips against mine.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Too startled to enjoy the kiss, I jerked away from Loki.

“What the hell was that?” I demanded, voice still at the same shrill decibel as it was before I was cut off by someone’s mouth on mine.

Loki breathed heavily, chest heaving noticeably, expression betraying that he himself had no idea. “I-”

“Loki, you wouldn’t believe-” a growl announced Toril’s entrance into the chambers, but she abruptly halted with a start when she realized I was in the room. I gaped at her disheveled appearance, wondering why in the world she used Loki’s first name instead of an honorific.

“Do you need any assistance, my king?” She corrected herself, voice wavering. “Is she trying to attack you? Shall I call the guards?”

“No, Toril, I don’t think that will be necessary,” Loki replied, remaining dangerously calm, gaze trained at the floor. “Though, if you could leave us...:”

“My king, do you think that’s wise?” Toril wrung her hands in earnest. “If she were to attack-”

“I can very well handle myself, thank you.”

As Toril’s lips shaped into a pout and she disappeared into a side room, Loki turned his attention back to me.

“I need to collect my thoughts,” he declared in a low tone, almost as if he was talking to himself. “I have been harboring some complicated feelings towards you for a while, and I’ve been trying to riddle them out. I wasn’t expecting a confrontation about them so soon, however, so I need some time to figure out how to best verbalize those feelings. I suppose I’ll see to that task presently, and come find you when I’m ready.”

I could make no reply, for the shock of the kiss had finally sunk in. I promptly turned away and left, occupied with the problem that my feelings should be going wild, yet I felt nothing. With the kiss, I finally got what I wanted desperately (yet never admitted to myself), so why did I feel so numb?

As I made for the door of the chambers, Toril, apparently eavesdropping in her absence, swept back into the room, bumping into my shoulder harshly enough to jostle me as we passed.

“This isn’t over yet,” she hissed in my ear, but I said nothing, the statement going in one ear and out the other as my suddenly clumsy fingers grappled at the doorknob.

“We wondered where you’d gone off to!” Gerd exclaimed as I entered the hallway, for she and Inge were before the door, once again arguing as to what they should do regarding their runaway charge. “Toril managed to escape, and it was only when we were chasing after her that we realized you were gone. Why were you in there?”

“I went to confront Loki,” I replied in a small voice, completely passing by the two handmaidens. They scurried to catch up and walk astride with me.

“I told you not to drink all that mead!” Gerd scolded, rightly assuming that the drink was the cause for my rash actions, but Inge was eager for the rest of the story.

“And how did that go?” she demanded.

“He kissed me,” I stated calmly, crossing the threshold of my chambers and quite literally collapsing into an armchair.

Both maids blanched.

“He what?” Gerd whispered.

My voice was like the crumbling parchment of an ages-old book buried under centuries of dust. “I went in there, demanding an explanation for his inconsistency, and after arguing back and forth a few times, he got quiet and said he was afraid of getting attached to me, and when I asked why, he just walked over and kissed me.”

“What did you do?” Inge’s eyebrows shot to her hairline.

“I broke away and demanded him to tell me what he was doing, but that’s when Toril came in,” I answered. “He sent her off, and then told me that he needed time to collect his feelings, and once he figured them out he’d come speak to me again.”

“I’m getting the sense that those feelings aren’t necessarily one-sided.” Inge’s pale eyes scanned my body, noticing how my countenance softened yet my trembling increased when I spoke of the reconciliation.

Gerd, as per usual, took the gentler approach.

“Camryn,” she began, placing her hands over mine on the armrests and kneeling before me. “Did you like that he kissed you?”

Not the question itself, but rather the feelings and recollections the question brought, sent a cold blade through my heart and a hot wave all over my body. My shock grasped me anew, and all I could do was breathe heavily for a few moments, eyebrows scrunching and stretching as I attempted to form an expression that reflected my feelings, before I bit my lip and gave the slightest nod.

Gerd’s eyes shut as if she expected that answer, but her expression betrayed nothing of her feelings on the subject. She again rose to her feet, addressing Inge with motherly concern for me for the second time on that eternal night.

“Inge, I think it would be best if we fetched Brenna, just to make sure all is well with Camryn’s health.”

Inge was clearly frightened with my state and readily agreed to do so, but as she made for the exit, she was nearly barreled over by one of Loki’s personal Einherjar entering the room.

“The king has just received an accusation that one of the palace handmaidens, Toril Aloadoittr, was assaulted and detained by ones Inge Kirdoittr and Gerd Seistdoittr,” he intoned, fixing each of us a piercing stare in turn. “Do you confirm or deny this claim?”

“Oh, that little bitch,” Gerd spat under her breath, the uncharacteristic comment nearly breaking me from my state of shock. The guard took that as the affirmative.

“I’m to bring the accused before the king for questioning,” he continued.

“Let me go,” Inge declared. “I was the instigator.”

“I’m to bring both of you.”

“But you’re not going to,” Inge hissed. “Gerd had nothing to do with it, and she’s needed here right now. If King Loki has a problem with that, he can take it up with me, seidr-wielder to seidr-wielder.”

The intensity in Inge’s gaze and the assuredness in her words was enough to make the guard relent, and he stepped aside to let her pass before him, leaving me and Gerd alone.

“Will you be alright by yourself for just a moment while I go and fetch Brenna?” she asked in a soft voice. I gave another stiff nod, and she smiled sympathetically, squeezing my hand before dashing from the chambers.

Left in solitude, I brushed my fingers over my lips, remembering how Loki’s cold and passionate mouth felt on mine. The kiss had been so hard, and he had clutched me with such need that the heat between us went far beyond sexual desire. That was what I’d been wanting the whole time: for my tentative attraction to him to be reciprocated so I could truly indulge in the feeling, along with a reasonable explanation for the fluctuation of his behavior towards me. I had gotten exactly those things, so why was I sitting there like an invalid, rattled to my core, instead of celebrating and relishing the event?

I was just beginning to cry when Brenna burst forth into the room, Gerd trailing behind.

“Kissed by the king, eh?” Brenna joked, tying the sash of her powder blue dressing gown. “It must have been good, to put you in this state.”

“I think she’s still a bit drunk, Brenna,” Gerd said. “I believe that’s a contributing factor.”

“Well, I agree with that,” Brenna conferred after a few pokes and prods, turning my head this way and that and staring into my eyes. “Still, she’s clearly rattled. She needs to sleep it off. I’ll give her a draught and put her to bed, but we’ll have to watch over her to make sure the alcohol in her system and the potion don’t react badly with each other.”

Instead of giving me the vial directly as she usually did, Brenna dumped the contents into a mug of water and watched me drink it all, trying to flush as much mead from my body as she could. As she and Gerd helped me to my feet, the potion working instantly and causing my mind to wander, I recalled what Loki said about collecting his feelings before coming to talk to me about them, and realized I would have to do the same with my feelings for him.

But how could I do that when I felt everything and nothing at once?

With a single sob, I stumbled onto the bed and instantly plunged into a fitful sleep.

 

The moment I closed my eyes, I began to relive the day that condemned me to Asgard; the day that banished me from my home in New York City forever. I felt the blast from Loki’s scepter pierce me anew, and anger flooded my heart. As my head hit the ground of the park I’d never see again, the scene shifted to the night I attempted to strangle Loki to death, and I relished the feeling of his bruising skin swelling under my fingers and the sight of his eyes rolling back in his head as he gasped for breath. The sheer intensity of the emotion drew me to enough lucidity for me to be unsettled, and I shook the dream away until I was alone in the darkness of sleep, rolling to the other side of the bed.

No sooner had I found peace than I was rattled by another disturbing image. Somehow, I knew that in this dream, Loki and I had been together as a couple for some time. We were casually strolling the portrait galleries of the palace, hand in hand, exchanging light conversation and tender kisses. All the bliss, however, faded as we came before Frigga’s portrait, which had dripping blood smeared across the paint, a droplet leaving an eerie scarlet streak down the center of her face. Loki broke our hands apart and approached the frame with hunkered shoulders, and when he whirled around to face me, his face seeming much larger than normal in the dream’s logic, his eyes were bright crimson.

“You did this,” he snarled, drawing closer. “You killed her.”

He waved his hand, leaving me immobilized as he pressed forward still.

“You’re the reason she’s dead,” he continued, a sinister dagger materializing in his hand. “It’s your fault.”

With a mighty swing, the blade penetrated my stomach, the pain as sharp as if it were happening to my worldly body.

“It’s your fault.” He stabbed again.

“It’s your fault.” Another blow.

“Your fault.” Another.

The chant of “It’s your fault,” and the stabs continued until my life’s blood covered every inch of both Loki’s and my body. When the fear roused me from my sleep, the cold sweat that coated my nightgown rendered me unable to discern if the blood was real or imagined. I cried out, but a cool rag was suddenly dabbed on my forehead. I opened my eyes and saw that I was safe in my calm, candlelit bedroom, Gerd perched at my bedside.

“It was just a bad dream,” she soothed. “Go back to sleep; it will be sweeter this time.”

I wish she had been right.

The moment I closed my eyes again, I was transported back to earlier that evening, when the kiss happened. Instead of pushing Loki away as I had before, I pulled him closer, draping myself across his body with the melodrama dreams tended to have.

“Oh, I love you,” I gasped when we pulled away. “I always have, and I always will.”

Loki stared at me for a couple of seconds, expression unreadable, until he burst into hysterical laughter. Toril entered the room to join him in cackling like a hyena, and together the two stripped me of my clothes, carrying me outside and parading me around town, hollering the story of an incredibly gullible girl to every citizen of Asgard, until the entire realm was guffawing in unison at my stupidity. The version of myself that was bound to the bed squirmed at that, groaning and punching a pillow, mercifully causing the dream to shift.

The next time, I watched Loki from across the room as he stood shirtless, wiping dirt and blood from his sculpted torso with a cloth moistened with the murky water of a washbasin. He was so beautiful that an actual ache formed in my heart and stomach, and I could not resist approaching and tracing my fingers along his hard abdomen. He briefly glanced down at my hands and took them in his, pressing gentle kisses to my fingertips, raising his gaze to meet mine with eyes containing the intensity of a laser beam.

I woke up panting, and for the first time that night, I was disappointed to have done so.

“Do you need me to open a window?” Brenna asked, having taken Gerd’s spot at my bedside. “You grew hot suddenly.”

I shook my head wordlessly, drifting back into my dream montage.

Next, I was sobbing in an armchair, distraught over some unknown cause. After a few moments, I felt myself gathered in Loki’s arms, and he shushed me gently.

“It’s alright, my love,” he assured in that persuasive, ambrosial voice of his. “I’ll make it all go away. You’re safe here with me.”

In an instant, I was calm once more.

The dream soon dissolved back to the kiss, but this time there was no melodrama involved. I merely took Loki’s face in my hands and kissed him back, and, suddenly self-aware, I pulled away and declared,

“This feeling overpowers them all.”

When I woke permanently, I sat straight up in bed, startling Inge, who had taken the last watch.

“Are you alright?” she questioned, noticing how alert I was in comparison to the night before.

“I think I’ve finally figured it out,” I replied.

Without asking for an explanation, she rose and held a white dressing gown out for me to step into. “Well, that’s good, considering the king is outside, waiting to see you.”

“Now?” I gasped. “Do I have time to make myself presentable?”

“He was very insistent that he meet with you the moment you woke,” Inge said apologetically. “He’s already quite impatient.”

“I can’t believe I have to meet him in this state,” I muttered to myself, then directed my words back to Inge. “The questioning last night...you weren’t harmed, were you?”  
She flashed me a reassuring smile. “The king’s heart wasn’t in his task. I could tell he was only making such a to-do about the incident because custom dictated. He was very mild.” She tied my dressing gown definitively. “Now hurry.”

Despite Inge’s pushing, I paused in front of my full-length mirror, attempting to make myself as presentable as possible for an audience with a king, especially one I intended to divulge feelings of attraction to. I pulled my hair into a braid, the one thing I could do without a hairbrush, and wiped the smudges of makeup that I’d neglected to remove from under my eyes. Frowning in displeasure, I realized I couldn’t improve any further, and forced myself through the door.

When I emerged onto the parlor, Loki was in an armchair next to a side table laden with a lavishly set breakfast tray, his back to me. He was dressed in an equally casually manner to the day before, his hair left soft and draped across his shoulders. His elbow rested on the arm of his chair, and from my angle I could tell his hand was cupping his face, index finger dragging back and forth across his lips. 

His countenance was different than I had ever seen it, for his form was tense and hunkered, yet he seemed very jittery, unable to stop moving. His finger went along his lips constantly, but in addition to that, he rotated between jiggling his right leg up and down, compulsively smoothing his hair, and letting his head fall back so that he gazed at the ceiling, exposing his Adam’s apple. The only explanation I could procure for the behavior was nerves, an emotion I never expected to witness from him.

“I was told you were out here, wanting to speak with me.”

He started at my voice, and moved much quicker than was characteristic as he rotated to look at me from his position on the chair. He regained his usual grace, however, when he stood to greet me, gesturing to the chair opposite the one he occupied.

“You were told correctly. Please, sit.” When I did so, he followed suit, then motioned towards the table. “I’ve taken the liberty of bringing my own breakfast tray in for us to share. It’s always too large for me, so help yourself to anything you’d like. Would you allow me to pour you a cup of tea? It’s brewed from a particularly beautiful flower that grows on Vanaheim, and is said to have calming properties. It’s quite sweet and delicious, more like a nectar than anything else, really.”

So he’s chatty when he’s nervous, I thought as I consented and he filled a cup with a green liquid with an underlying pink tint. Perhaps he should take some of the tea for himself. I barely suppressed a giggle as I took my cup from him, retrieving a slice of peach with it, shrewdly observing him over the rim.

“I heard you treated Inge very gently last night,” I began before he could. “Considering her actions, it would not have been unreasonable to give her some sort of punishment, but you didn’t, so I thank you for that.”

“Given the situation, her actions weren’t so severe.” Loki rolled his eyes. “Toril runs wild, and needs to be put in her place now and again.”

“Still, things could have gone far differently, considering…” I broke off abruptly. When I began that sentence, I intended to jump right in and discuss the issue of his undefined yet suspiciously comfortable relationship with Toril, but I bit my tongue and decided it could wait until another time. My plan for our conversation involved various insults to his character and the proposal of a deal that could be asking a lot of him. I didn’t want to overwhelm him and seem greedy, so I put Toril away for a discussion to be had further down the road if the relationship between Loki and I developed as I planned, given that the situation didn’t resolve itself naturally because of it.

“Considering what?” Loki prompted, realizing I was no longer in the present. I shook my head to clear it.

“Considering what I’ve seen of your character in such situations,” I improvised. He inhaled sharply and clenched his jaw at the accusation, not in anger, but merely of acknowledgement.

“Well, I suppose there’s no clever way to make this transition, so shall I jump right into what this meeting is about?”

I nodded in reply, gripping my delicate cup so hard I feared it would shatter in my hands.

“I was always intrigued by you,” he began. “From the moment I first saw you, when you had your hands wrapped around my neck, I felt no hatred, but rather interest. I thought to myself, what has given this mortal girl the rage to attempt to kill me, possessed her to think she could succeed, and why is she succeeding? My mother then began to speak of you occasionally in her visits to me, simply gushing over her new pupil, and finding out more about you only heightened the desire to know more.

“Until, of course, the day my mother died. As you know, I was struggling with the thought that I was the one to blame for her death, and sought to place that burden on anyone else that I could. I passed that stage, but I still hated everyone involved; everyone that could have possibly done something to save her. It wasn’t as personal towards you as you might think, because I even blamed the doors of her chamber for not staying open so someone could hear her struggle and come to her assistance. But, personal or not, you still suffered greatly as a result of my quest for vengeance.

“I kept wanting people to pay. No matter how many people involved in her death I killed, I was never satisfied. Once Odin was gone, you were the only one left, so I figured executing you would be the last step in wiping the slate as clean as it could come whilst I still walked this realm.

“My plans changed, however, when you managed to break through the barrier in your cell. That was something not even I was capable of, and when I realized the potential of your power, I knew it was too great to throw away. I had much need for someone as powerful as you as my weapon, for reasons that are my own.

“I knew that you would never help me willingly, though. I also knew that you were young and inexperienced, which worked in my favor, for you seemed impressionable, though in time I learned you’re very stubborn, you’re just very quiet about it.

“It was obvious that your emotions, rather intense ones for a mortal, ruled your life and decisions. Every single one of your outbursts, though put into action by the Tesseract taking over your body, were fueled by your emotions. They had to be extremely powerful to take control of such a force, so I knew those were what I had to override to make you mine. Through unfortunate personal experiences, I’ve learned that isolation and negative reinforcement was the way to do that, so that was the plan I decided on.

“The day came for the first time I was going to attempt to train you, and, well, you know how that went. When you managed to mind control me and force the truth out of my mouth, I actually started to see myself in you, a version of myself that I’d so desperately tried to bury. That vision took over, and suddenly I knew I had to get rid of anything that reminded me of that time of weakness. But when you started talking about Mother to stop me… that resonated with me in a way I was not prepared for.

“As you know, I made my rapid retreat after that. I’d reached a point in my life where disappointing people was all I ever did, so I figured I’d better make the incidents worthwhile, but disappointing Mother, as I knew I had done… That was the thing I simply couldn’t bear. So, that night when I went to my chambers, I… prayed. For the first time in years, I prayed to my mother and begged her to help me make her proud again. She did so, removing the shroud of hatred and opportunity from my eyes, and letting me see the person behind the power for the first time.

“That’s when I started to become attracted to you. When I really began to look, I realized that, though your emotions often got the better of you, you were so quiet and mild on the outside, but in a way that hinted there were many different things going on underneath the surface. You became like a puzzle to me, an epic quest to truly get to know you, and that kept me coming back for more. I’d seen you impassioned before, so I knew you were in no way one-noted, and I searched to find the way to reveal the emotional spectrum I knew you had.

“Slowly, I began to get bits of it, and it only intoxicated me and kept me coming back for more. Interest is the first thing that attracts me to someone, and you certainly had that, but you also had intellect, a philosophical spirit and way about you that matured you beyond your years, and of course, your beauty contributed, as well. 

“Those feelings scared me, though. I had intended to make you a colleague, not a lover, and it frightened me that I was falling in love with a mortal, and I was afraid I would not be received well if I told you of my feelings, lest the reaction it caused trigger something dangerous with your power. So, I repressed those emotions, again searching for any excuse to reverse the process, but when I realized they couldn’t be undone and you demanded a reason for my behavior last night, I succumbed.

“So, today I’m before you in the barest, most humble state I can manage, asking you if you would like to begin a romantic journey with me.”

By that time, the precious tea was dripping onto the rug, for in my shock I had forgotten to hold the cup upright. I noticed Loki’s nervous expression as he watched my reaction, but I couldn’t yet bring myself to a reply, letting the cup drop to the floor and covering my mouth with my hands. The speech I had put together in the brief time I had to do so suddenly fled, and I took a few moments to regain it, Loki clearly growing more nervous by the second.

“I can’t express to you how happy your words have made me. I, too, have had feelings for you for a while now, but I never let them show for fear that I would be ridiculed and my belief that there was no way they would ever be reciprocated. The fact that they are elates me, and I would love to accept your proposal.” I watched Loki deflate in relief, letting him have a moment before continuing. “However, before I can wholeheartedly do so, there are some things I would like to discuss.”

“By all means.” He motioned to the space before him. “Please, discuss.”

“I also have feelings for you that extend beyond romantic ones. Unlike you, though, mine did not go through a journey, but are rather all plaguing me at once.

"The first feeling I ever had towards you was hatred. Don't take it personally, because what else could you expect? The first thing you ever did to me was blast a hole in my torso, which left me with an unpredictable, unsafe supernatural ability that banished me from my home forever. And, to add insult to injury, you intended to have me executed for a crime I didn't commit, and only retracted that sentence when you discovered that I could be of use to you. From there, you locked me in a cell and abused me profusely, trying to turn me into your mindless weapon. What you've told me explains your actions a bit, but nevertheless, you still did those things.

"The other largely negative emotion permeating my mind is that of fear. You're unpredictable. One minute you're wonderfully civil and as charming as can be, and the next you're lashing out, yelling about how I killed your mother. I'm worried that if I engaged in a relationship with you, all would be fine and well until a night came where you'd particularly miss Frigga and decide to strangle me in my sleep.

"Now, the case of these emotions being alleviated is not hopeless. I believe it can be done through terms I'll discuss once I've finished explaining everything.

“I’m rather ashamed to admit that my initial romantic feelings towards you were not quite as deep as yours for me. Throughout the whole time I knew you, even when I hated you, I was attracted to you. It frustrated me near to tears, I will say. I thought to myself, ‘This person is awful, tried to kill me, and is abusing me, but goddamn he’s gorgeous.’ If anything, it made me hate you more, the fact that you had a sort of power over me, one that sometimes made me want to kiss you instead of killing you. But, once you let me out of my cell, I started to get to know you and I saw your gentler side, and that made the attraction go deeper than exterior appearances.

“Keep in mind that my feelings are developing later than yours, for this last instance occurred just last night. I reflected on the kiss, and I began to fear. I feared your physical declaration was some plot made up to punish me; that you envisioned me throwing myself at you in response, as I so wanted to, and that you planned to scorn me and parade me around town as a stupid fool for doing so. I mean, how silly would I have to be to believe that a god would be truly attracted to a mortal, especially one that was like a ticking time bomb, that had both mind-controlled him and attempted to kill him?

“But I looked further into my heart, and in you I found comfort; I found a new home. I found the beginnings of love, and a connection with a person I’d never thought I’d have in this alien place. I knew that reciprocating the feelings displayed in the kiss was a chance I’d have to take.

“However, before I can completely agree to entering this new brand of relationship with you, I need you to tell me if you do something without question.”

“Anything.” Loki leaned forward over his knees as my tone turned solemn and demanding, finger once again flitting to his mouth in his renewed nerves.

“You can’t be unpredictable anymore,” I declared in earnest. “You can’t be kind and doting with me one minute and hate me the next. Yes, we’ll fight, I understand that. Everyone does, and I’m not trying to say that you can never disagree or get angry with me. But you must stop making random personality flips. You must stop blaming me for your mother’s death, permanently, and you must stop looking down on me because I’m a mortal. Despite everything else, those feelings of fear and hatred for you are still buried deep inside of me, and they will never go away if I sense that at any moment you’re going to explode and start to distance yourself from me or abuse me. They will, however, go away if I see that you’ve changed your thinking on those counts. Is that something you can do?”

There was silence for a moment, and I feared I’d ruined everything. Loki didn’t look angry, to my relief, but he did look quite ashamed, and I was afraid I’d deeply offended him. His eyes shut and he dug his nails into his palms, but when he glanced up, a ghost of a smile found his lips.

“It is,” he agreed, nodding slightly. “I sincerely wish I could, but I can’t guarantee perfection instantly, but I’ll work on it until it is. And if it doesn’t reach that point in a timely manner, I give you permission to leave me, because it’s not fair to you.”

“It won’t reach that point.” Hesitantly, I reached out and cupped his cheek, but as he glanced into my eyes and we both grinned, my touch became surer. “I want this with you. Let’s start a new chapter of our lives, together.”


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Despite our heartfelt declarations and our supposed new relationship, hardly anything changed in Loki’s and my routine, and the only thing altered in our behavior towards each other was the addition of painful awkwardness. Loki had no more outbursts of hatred towards me and I stopped fearing they would happen, but we still weren’t in sync. We would share luncheon, served by Gerd and Inge (Toril had been mysteriously absent ever since the kiss), have a training session, then eat dinner together before retiring to our respective chambers. The only thing that would mark us out as being in a relationship were the hesitant touches and pecks we would share upon greeting and goodbyes. In fact, we had never been together anywhere outside of my chambers, and I hadn’t even seen his.

Admittedly, the removal of prevalent fear in our dynamic helped me make excellent progress in my training, and I soon reached the point where I hardly ever had difficulties controlling my power. Loki, glowing with pride, had said that as far as my physical prowess, the containment training was nearly finished, and soon we would be able to move on to actually applying my abilities. The enormous hug he gave me the day I had no reaction to the most intense triggers he could summon was the most natural moment between us since the kiss, while every other gesture of affection, while genuine, seemed forced. I began to reflect on how little time we had actually known each other and began to wonder if we rushed into things too soon.

I expressed as much to the girls as I was eating breakfast a week and a half after Loki and I kissed and had our reckoning, responding to Gerd’s question of why I seemed so jittery.

“Well, he didn’t give you much of a choice,” Brenna commented, biting into a fig. I didn’t require check-ups after my lessons anymore, and wouldn’t again until we got to the stamina portion of my training, so she often came to take breakfast with me to keep in touch. “He took you and kissed you. Hard, from the way I hear it. You couldn’t just go back to normal after that. He threw any notion of a properly developing relationship out the window.”

“I know, but we had such chemistry before,” I argued. “While it’s not completely gone, it’s considerably diminished. We’re not passionate now, yet we were when we still hated each other. Now we’re like two preteens in their first relationship.”

“It s a completely new dynamic, and the two of you are just figuring it out.” Gerd topped off my tea, placing a comforting pat on my back before pouring herself a cup and settling into the chair next to Brenna. “Give it time.”

“I just fear…” I broke off, staring at my hands. “I’ve just been thinking of how little we really know each other. I can count our interactions before the kiss on my fingers. I worry that our attraction for each other was just us reacting to extreme stressors and new situations, and that it’s not really there. I wish we would have had time to riddle that out before becoming entirely romantically involved.”

“I agree with Gerd,” Inge put in, reclining in her seat. “Give it time. The two of you made a mistake by rushing into it, so just don’t let it happen again. Don’t force anything, and let it happen naturally. If it’s meant to be, it will all work itself out.”

I nodded as I reached for my fork to finally devour the plate of delicious food that had made me queasy not a minute before, the churning in my stomach quelled a bit by their advice and reassurance. Around a bite of warm, spiced fig, I looked around at the women seated before me, my heart swelling with thanks that I was able to come across such a wonderful support group. Though, as I studied Gerd and Inge, I realized just how long it had been since I saw their third member.

“Where has Toril been the past week?” I asked, attempting to sound casual. “I haven’t seen her since the night Loki and I kissed.”

“She fell ill the next day, and has been in bed ever since,” Inge replied, blowing on her cup of hot cider.

I cocked an eyebrow. “Suspicious timing.”

“I thought so, too, until she didn’t get any better. She’s been locked in her room this entire time, and refuses to let anyone see her. Today she departed for a leave of absence to her mother’s house in the countryside until she recovers.”

Brenna furrowed her brow. “If she’s so ill, why did she never come to the healers? Usually Eir has to give her permission for a member of staff to take a sick leave. We never even knew Toril was afflicted with anything.”

Inge shrugged. “I’m just getting this all from Edill.”

Brenna scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Edill is Toril’s lackey. I wouldn’t trust a word she says.”

“I don’t entirely, but I did see Toril leaving the palace today.” Inge looked pointedly at me. “If she’s not sick, she’s up to something. I would be on your guard, Camryn. Part of the reason why Loki never kept his lovers for long was because Toril always got involved if they were around any longer than two weeks. She can be vicious.”

I gulped, my food becoming unappetizing yet again. I had refrained from asking Loki about Toril thus far, but Inge’s information made me realize that I had to at the earliest opportunity. I needed to find out what was really going on, and why Toril felt the need to sabotage our first outing and hurt all of Loki’s past lovers, for my own safety. Surely he’d understand my fear and tell me for that reason.

Though, an awful voice in my head crooned, if he doesn’t, it could ruin everything.

 

***

“Good afternoon, Camryn.”

“Good afternoon to you, Loki.” I stepped out of the doorframe to make room for him. “Come on in.”

Loki entered the room with a smile and a tender brush on my upper arm. “How are you today?”

“I’m good. And yourself?” I grit my teeth at how congenial we were being. We were like strangers on the street. No heat burned between us any longer, whether that heat be hatred or love.

“I’m well. I’m eager to start your training today. It’s going to be an entirely new unit, so I’m anxious to see how it goes.”

“Well, come and sit down for lunch so we can get started all the sooner.” I went to direct him to his chair, but at the same time he made to pull mine out for me, so we ended up gently colliding en route. With pressed giggles, we went to our own respective chairs and sat with our gazes trained on our plates.

“I have somewhat exciting news,” Loki eventually announced, draping his napkin across his lap. “I thought that after our lesson, we might finally have our palace tour. I’ve made sure that there will be no interruptions this time.”

My stomach knotted with nerves, but I knew I couldn’t pass up such a perfect opportunity.

“So you heard about Toril’s illness, then? And that she left the palace?”

“I heard about her leaving, though I doubt it’s from illness.” He snorted, raising his wine glass to his lips. “It’s probably best that she’s away for a while. There will likely be hell to pay when she returns, and this way we’ll have more time to prepare ourselves.”

My breath hitched in my throat and I drew my trembling hands into tight fists. “Loki, I- can you...I was wondering…” I broke off with a frustrated sigh before blurting, “What’s your relationship with Toril?”

“That…” He set his goblet down with an arduous movement that made me want to scream. “Is a long story. I suppose I should start from the beginning.

“I was about four hundred and sixty-five years old when she came to the palace. By that point, I already had a reputation of being a womanizer, but I had yet to do the deed. Until she came along, that is.”

Oh no, I inwardly moaned. Toril took his virginity, didn’t she?

“Because of her low status, she was assigned to be a scullery maid upon her arrival. Usually, they work out of sight in the nobility, but in my youth I was always thinking of creative ways to evade my family and tutors, so I often crossed paths with them, anyway. I noticed her out of the corner of my eye a few times, and after a week or so I realized she was watching me.

“One evening before bed, I was informed that the maid that usually tended to my fires in the middle of the night had sprained her ankle, and a substitute would be provided until she healed. I suspect that Toril injured my usual nighttime maid herself, and convinced the head of housekeeping to allow her to fill in.

“I often stayed up until the early hours of the morning or didn’t sleep at all, and the idea of an unfamiliar person in my room whilst I was sleeping made me uneasy, so that night I sat in my armchair, tearing up a mystery novel my mother had gifted me that morning. I was there when Toril walked through the front door, and all she did was say ‘Good evening, Your Highness,” before abandoning her tools, coming over to straddle me, and kissing me deeply.

“Now, Toril was a couple hundred years older than me, and her mother was a whore. They don’t like having children living in brothels, so I suspect she was put to work for her room the moment she was able. Though, Toril is the twisted type of person that actually enjoys that sort of work, and was very talented at what she did. All that experience drew me in, and the pleasure made me her prisoner. I remember her whispering to me, right after she strippped me bare, ‘Before I do this, promise me that you’ll put in a good word to your mother about me.’ I was so aroused at that point that I would’ve agreed to anything, so of course I said yes.

“We were together that night and many others. I helped her rise through the ranks to become Mother’s handmaid, and she taught me everything I know. However, I was not one to be tied down at the time, and we never established any sort of relationship outside of sex, so after a few weeks I began pursuing other girls again. She didn’t like it, but tolerated the one-night-stands. However, if it went on for any longer than that, she became testy.

“She learned that when I was truly interested in a girl, I would pursue them for longer. I wouldn’t jump right in and take them to bed, but I would romance them for a week or so, and often keep them around for about a moon. She picked up on this behavior, and she started doing things about it.

“First, the girls would mysteriously fall ill or become injured before I could take them to bed a second time. Then it would happen before I could do it in the first place. I picked up on the act when girls started handing in their immediate resignations only a couple of days after I started pursuing them. I realized that, while I had no feelings for Toril other than lust, she had formed her own twisted kind of love for me. It was out of control. 

“Due to Toril’s eventual high status as my Mother’s handmaiden, we kept our ‘relationship’ a secret, so when she convinced me to stop pursuing other girls and Mother noticed that the stream of chambermaids and healers-in-training stumbling from my rooms in the morning had ended, it was decided that I was to have a betrothed- a Vana named Sigyn. Toril grew cold and refused to see me during the courting stage, but when Sigyn and her family came to stay in the palace as guests, they were only there three days before one night I was roused by Sigyn’s hysterical screams. I rushed to her chambers to see what was the matter, and through sobs she begged me not to come near her. Her party left before dawn the next morning, and they haven’t set foot on Asgard since. That night, however, Toril came to my chambers, and made me hers again.

“Ever since, I’ve never courted anyone else, yet Toril has always just been the one I fucked. It’s quite sad, really, because when I think about it, I realize that I’ve lived a life devoid of loving someone outside of my own family. I came to her when I was upset, angry, frustrated, confused, happy, or just simply wanting it. There have never been any feelings from my side of it, she was simply…”

“She was your own hand, in a way,” I giggled, hoping the joke would distract me from my fear that he was lying about not really having feelings for her. The history the two had, even if it was just sex, was something I couldn’t ever hope to compete with.

Loki chuckled. “That’s a particularly vulgar way to put it, but our relationship was vulgar, so I suppose it’s fitting.”

I bit my lip hard, screwing my eyes shut and bunching the fabric of the gown in my fists. “And…have you been with her since we...since you started training me?”

Loki reached across the table, running his fingers down my arm and around my elbow until I surrendered my hand to him, and he held it tightly.

“I haven’t been with her in at least three years, though she’s made her advances. I’ve tenaciously refused every one, which I must admit, makes her come back with more vigor. But I made my decision long ago. Whatever strange relationship we had is over,” he assured. “You have nothing to worry about as far as infidelity through her. When she comes back to the palace, though, there will be backlash, but we’ll be ready for it, and I’ll make certain that no harm comes to you.” He squeezed my palm reassuringly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a smile. I could only reply with a shaking breath, the edges of my lips twitching upward as I averted my eyes to the table. Loki’s brow furrowed in thought, and as he rubbed his thumb along the top of my hand, I realized that I was too distressed to realize that we were finally having a tender moment with no awkwardness.

“I’ll tell you what,” he proposed. “Since you’ve been out of your cell, you haven’t had a day off from your training. You’ve made such good progress, so let’s not do the session today. What do you say we go straight out and have our tour, hm?”

I raised my head and mustered a small, genuine smile, giving a single nod.

So Loki and I set off, arm-in-arm and sharing light conversation, mostly composed of him telling stories, both personal and historical, about nearly every nook and cranny of the palace. It made me realize just how long he had lived, that he had so much to say and so many tidbits about a mind-bogglingly enormous building. He took me into ballrooms and galleries and dining rooms and throne rooms (apparently the one I had been in was used only for court), and by the time we reached the top floor of hundreds, the shadows were growing long and my stomach rumbled audibly. Loki chuckled at the sound.

“Perhaps we should stop for the day, and go get you something to eat.”

I looked up at him with an incredulous expression, inwardly noting that the tour had helped relieve even more of the discomfort between us.

“‘For the day’?” I echoed. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, the tour is far from over,” Loki said theatrically. “I’ve merely shown you how to find your way around! There’s still so many rooms to take you into, and the secret passageways, and you haven’t even seen the grounds, except for the enclosed courtyards! And not to mention that once we’ve exhausted the palace, I have to show you the city, and then all the rest of Asgard.”

I laughed, patting his bicep. “Well, I suppose we have our date night activity set for the next, what, ten years?”

I waited for his joking reply, but he merely went stiff, eyes trained on something ahead of us. I followed his gaze to the end of the lengthy hall and noticed a relatively young man with chestnut waves, sporting luxurious goldspun robes, walking our direction. He didn’t notice us, however, for he was deep in conversation with an older man dressed in the dark colors of a personal servant.

“Damn,” Loki muttered. “I forgot that I told everyone you were a visiting diplomat from Alfheim.”

“What does that mean?” I whispered, sensing that this was a situation where I should keep my voice down.

Loki broke our contact and stood in front of me, shielding me from view, scanning my face before reaching out and freeing the hair that I had absentmindedly tucked behind my ears at some point, rearranging and patting it down so that it thoroughly covered them.

“You may look elvish in the face, but your ears are a dead giveaway. I meant to give them a glamour, but I never quite got around to it,” he explained. “Keep them hidden.”

“Oh. Alright.” Stiff in my frazzled state, I merely watched as Loki manipulated me like a puppet into our previous position, completing it just as the robed man sent his servant away and focused his attention on us.

“Good evening, Your Majesty. My lady,” he greeted, coming to a halt before us with a pompous, if not slightly smug, expression. His build was short and stocky, but he was still conventionally handsome, with sun-browned skin contrasting his light blue eyes.

“Councilman Olaf.” Loki tipped his chin curtly. “Lady Camryn, may I present Olaf Umunson, a member of the High Council. Councilman Olaf, I introduce-”

“The elven diplomat everyone’s speaking of,” Olaf interrupted, an unsettling gleam in his yes. “Camryn, you said your name was? How odd. That’s not an elvish name, rather, it sounds quite... Midgardian.”

My heart leapt to my throat, and though Loki betrayed nothing in his expression or stance, a hard squeeze on my hand relayed his fear. Councilman Olaf knew something, but I sensed that Loki was silently urging me to find out the extent of his knowledge before revealing anything.

“My parents simply wanted something different,” I improvised. “They were quite creative, and simply made it up.”

“Hm.” Olaf pressed his lips together, thinly suppressing a smirk. “Alfheim certainly is a beautiful realm. What region are you from?”

Before I could panic, a familiar voice echoed in my head, one I recognized as the Tesseract feeding me information.

The elves that have dark hair and eyes like you usually come from the forests in the south, it whispered.

“The south,” I piped up, feeling Loki ever-so-slightly relax next to me. “Near the forests.”

“The most beautiful part of Alfheim, in my opinion.” Olaf rocked back and forth on his heels. “Forgive me, but I’m quite out of the loop of the current events of Alfheim. Who’s the king right now?”

As the Tesseract fed me the answer, it became clear just how extensively Olaf was testing me. I raised my chin defiantly, puffing my chest up proudly.

“Actually, there’s a queen on the throne right now.” It was my turn to smirk. “Queen Euraviel.”

“Your Midgardian is educated quite well, my king,” Olaf chuckled darkly, and my smile vanished. “Did you school her up on Alfheim, or was that the Tesseract talking?”

“Pardon?” I choked out.

Olaf reached out and pushed my hair away from my ears. “Those aren’t the ears of a light elf. This little girl is a mortal, come here because she has power from the Tesseract.”

“How do you know that?” Loki spat, drawing me closer to his side to prevent Olaf from touching me again.

“There are a large handful of guards that have dealt with her when she’s been in the midst of dangerous states.” Olaf shrugged. “Men are as gossipy as women, you know.”

“I know it wasn’t one of the guards.” Loki’s voice was dangerously low. “I and Queen Frigga before me put a spell on everyone that dealt with Camryn and did not have our unconditional trust. If they tried to speak of her, their voices would not work. If they tried to write things about her, their hands would be stilled. Gods, even if they tried to act things out, their bodies would become petrified. I will ask once more: who told you?”

“A concerned citizen that wishes to remain anonymous.” Olaf remained nonplussed. “One that told the High Council that this mortal is very, very dangerous.”

“I’m training her to control her power,” Loki said through gritted teeth. “She doesn’t have outbursts anymore, and now I’m teaching her how to apply her abilities.”

“Then she will know how to use this incredibly dangerous force, and it could mean terrible things if she turned against Asgard.” Olaf began to walk away from us. “I’m not trying to anger you, Your Majesty. I’m just passing along the message that the Council wishes to meet with her tomorrow. Just the usual, simple inspection like we do for all unplanned guests; nothing to worry about.”

Once Olaf was out of earshot, Loki broke away from me and swore in a different tongue, and though I didn’t know the direct translation, I could tell it was blistering.

“Loki…” I began in a voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to provoke him further. “You know it was Toril that told him, right?”

“Of course I know it was Toril.” Though Loki’s tone was sharp and biting, it was clear that his anger wasn’t directed towards me, and that he was only raging at the situation. “It doesn’t surprise me that it was Olaf she used, either. He’s the only one on the Council that’s not a shriveled old man. She likely gave him information and then fucked him to convince him to tell his peers and call the meeting. That’s exactly why I tried so hard to hide you: to keep the lecherous Council from interfering.”

“What’s so awful about the Council?” I dared to question.

Loki, who had been furiously pacing through our conversation, suddenly stilled, voice calming. “They’re the only beings on Asgard that have more power than I do.”

“How can that be?”

“Well, perhaps not on all counts. In most aspects, they’re a royal council like one you would see on Midgard. They’re the king’s chief advisers, and each of them are masters of certain aspects of Asgard. For example, Olaf is Master of Agriculture. There’s one Councilman for each of the nine districts of Asgard, and they serve lifelong terms. They’re selected by a popular vote from their district, because the motto of the High Council is to keep the interests of the people as their priority, and prevent them from having a tyrannical leader. If the vote between the nine of them is unanimous, they can overrule or nullify any laws or commands, and they can even remove a king from the throne.”

“What if the Council just doesn’t like a king, or they’re the ones that are corrupt and tyrannical?” I questioned.

“That’s why they’ve never been popular with the royalty. If a king tries to overrule the Council or remove one of its members, he’s instantly branded as a tyrant and the Council removes him.” Loki smiled bitterly. “That’s why I didn’t want them, more than everybody else in the palace, knowing who you really are. If they deem you a threat to Asgard and its people, they can override everything Frigga and I have done and take action to remove you.”

“Something in your voice tells me that I don’t want to find out what removing me would consist of,” I whimpered. Loki, clearly not wanting me to be upset any longer, softened his expression and took his face in my hands. I was suddenly entirely distracted from my fear, for it was the most natural and passionate thing to happen between us since our first kiss, and my heart began to pound in my chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m overreacting. You needn’t worry about them.” He dragged his thumbs along my cheekbones. “I’ll convince them that you’re harmless, and they’ll leave us alone. They don’t call me Silvertongue for nothing.”

I closed my eyes and laughed once, savoring the feeling of his cool fingers drawing soothing lines on my skin and the tenderness with which he cradled my head. “I didn’t know they called you that.”

“It won’t be long before you find out why.” He leaned in and kissed me briefly, playfully running his tongue along my lips before pulling away. It was a simple, quick thing, but it was enough to cause me to throw my hands up in surprise and leave me flushed and breathless. I suppose our problem with not having heat is officially a thing of the past, I thought, my head swimming.

“Now, you were hungry, weren’t you?” Loki wrapped his arm around my waist, drawing me down from my daze. “Let’s go get you something to eat, hm?”

And so we returned to my chambers and shared a meal with easy conversation suiting new lovers, filled with laughter and gentle touches, all the while our feet playfully rubbing against each other under the table.

“Let’s change things up a bit,” Loki suggested as I walked him to the door at the end of the evening. “Would you like to come to my chambers for breakfast tomorrow?”

I grinned. “I would love to.”

“Wonderful. Good night, Camryn.” He leaned in and gave me a parting kiss, tender yet long. When he walked away, I felt as if I could float right after him, my toes tingling and my heart beating irregularly.

“That certainly didn’t seem awkward,” Inge commented as she cleaned away the dishes. “What changed?”

“We were angry and scared together. We have a common cause that’s drawing us closer,” I answered in a thin, dreamy voice, but as I slid down the door and hugged my knees to my chest, my mind couldn’t be further from Toril and the Council. All I could think of was Loki, and all I could do was count the seconds until I could have my lips on his again.


	17. Chapter 17

Sleep was proving to be impossible.

For what seemed to be an eternity, I tossed and turned in my enormous bed, staring up at the high ceiling. In the gold, I watched the reflection of the flames in the hearth across the room go from warm, dancing orange shadows to a dim, ominous red glow, seeming to reflect the spiral of my thoughts.

Once Gerd, Inge, and Brenna had left for the night, my mind plunged into a storm of fears over what awaited me at the Council meeting the next day. How would they judge if my powers were safe enough to let me off? Would they conduct a full-scale interrogation, or some invasive physical inspection? Would I have to perform some kind of test? What was the criteria for the Council deeming me safe or a threat? If they deemed me a threat, what would “removing me” involve? The possibilities made bile rise in my throat, and I sunk lower into the bed, pulling the covers up to my nose as if they would protect me.

Would they execute me? If they did, how would they do it? Hanging? Beheading? Poison? Or would they try to torture the power out of me? Or research and do experiments on it? What if they tried to twist me to be under their control?

A part of me wondered if they would just send me back to Earth. Weeks ago, I would’ve rejoiced and prayed for that possibility. Though it was a very unlikely scenario, I realized that going back to Earth would mean never seeing Loki again, and suddenly it became the worst horror of all.

I groaned and pulled the blankets completely over my head. My relationship with Loki was so new, yet I already considered having to leave him a worse horror than being cut open and probed, something that was becoming increasingly more possible as each hour without sleep slipped away, along with my chances of performing well at the meeting.

The mattress below me gradually started to feel like it was drowning me, and my blankets began to feel like tiny insects crawling up and down my body. With a mix between a huff and a groan, I threw them off, my legs working with a mind of their own as I pulled myself out of bed and into the parlor.

All of the fires were burning rather low, giving every room in my chambers an eerie red glow, the effect intensified by the occasional snaps and pops of the wood, the fact that they were the only sound other than my own breathing making them deafening. I sat at the breakfast table with my knees pulled up to my chest, wondering if Gerd or Inge ever returned in the night to tend the fires, wishing one of them would so I would have someone to talk to. Eventually, though, the titanic shadows on the walls began to seem like cutthroats lurking, and I felt as if demonic eyes were on me. My anxiety made me fear my own living quarters, and I had to get out of them.

I tiptoed over to my door and slipped out into the corridors, the environment that would’ve once felt more menacing seeming to comfort me. Braziers flanked every door, with flames that burned higher and brighter, illuminating the space more and reducing the amount of intimidating shadows. Guards were peppered here and there, ready to eradicate any threat. Down the hall, a maid carried a pitcher of water into someone’s chambers. I drifted further down the corridor and heard light chatter behind one door, despite the lateness of the hour, and mighty snores behind another.

Despite the enormous size of the place, the environment gave me the feeling that I was in a homely environment. The thought relaxed me and finally brought a cloud of sleepiness over my head, but I knew that I would become anxious again if I returned to my chambers. Instead, I returned to my door and slid down in front of it, pulling my knees to my chest, staring at the shadows of the flames dancing on the floor and listening to the sounds of other lives besides my own.

“What are you doing out here at this time of night?”

Loki’s question shocked a yelp out of me. I hadn’t even heard his approach. I put a hand to my chest to calm my racing heart and took in the heart-achingly beautiful sight of him in loose sleeping pants and a v-necked tunic that revealed a deliciously considerable portion of his ivory chest, his hair laying curly and relaxed about his shoulders.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you.” He came to stand in front of me, his brows knitting together. “But what are you doing up? Your Council meeting is tomorrow.”

“That’s the exact reason why I can’t sleep. I’m so nervous.” I shivered. “But what are you doing up, then?”

“As a rule, I don’t sleep much. I probably only get one full night of sleep a week..” He held his hand out to me, eyes deep and glimmering in the firelight. “Why don’t we talk about what’s troubling you in my chambers? It’s warmer in there.”

I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet, drawing me close to his body and rubbing up and down my arm to create friction. He must have thought that my nervous shivers were from the cold. Though, I couldn’t say I disliked the treatment I was getting, seeing as warmth seeped from my chest and spread throughout my body, gooseflesh rising where he touched me.

In our awkward position that I never wanted to get out of, we made our way down the hall and into his chambers, with blazing fires and lighted lamps, no ominous shadows to be found. Loki motioned to a pair of armchairs in front of the main hearth.

“Sit and make yourself comfortable,” he offered. “I’ll go pull out some wine.”

As he left the room, I sunk into the plush cushions gladly, barely able to contain my grin as I stared at the spot where our first kiss happened. Loki returned shortly, pulling an end-table between the two chairs, putting a bottle and two glasses on it before coming around my chair and draping a warm, deep blue shawl around my shoulders. As he turned his back to pour the wine, I brought the soft fabric to my nose, expecting to breathe in his scent, but instead found Frigga’s perfume of sandalwood and honeysuckle.

“So,” Loki began, settling down in the chair opposite mine. “The Council meeting tomorrow has you worried.”

“Incredibly.” I drew the shawl tighter around myself, feeling very grateful that he trusted me enough to let me wear something that used to be Frigga’s. “I just keep running through all the scenarios of what could happen in this thing and none of what I’m coming up with is very pleasant.”

“Well, you’re smart to be worried.” Loki’s gaze was fixed on a spot on the floor, eyes wide and tongue dragging across his teeth. Eventually, he raised his glass to his lips and drank generously. “They’re troublesome bastards, the Council.”

“Loki?” I asked timidly. He snapped back to reality, eyes finding mine and regaining their usual alert expression. “What can I expect from tomorrow, as far as the structure of the meeting?”

“They’ll probably question you, I expect.” He ran his thumb across his lips. “I’ll likely get questioned, as well, and perhaps people who know you closely and have encountered you. They might send out an order for Eir to do a physical examination. They could also ask for some sort of demonstration of your abilities.”

“That’s not too menacing, I suppose.” I traced the rim of my glass. “What do you think their decision will be?”

“Honestly, I couldn’t tell you. The Councilors are the only beings that contest me in trickery. All I can say is that I highly doubt they’ll kill you or send you to Midgard. There’s no way they’re going to let an asset like you slip through their fingers. The safety of Asgard be damned. They’re holding this whole thing to try and get you under their control.” Loki bristled for a moment, but relaxed. “My guess is that the two possible outcomes of this meeting are them releasing you back into my care, or taking custody of you for themselves.”  
“Oh.” I kicked back a generous swig of wine. “And how do you plan to make sure they don’t take over me?”

“The most I can do is know what points to make that will convince them that you’re not a threat to Asgard, know what witnesses to provide that would make the best cases, and be entirely transparent about our training process and what I plan to use your abilities for. The Council may be corrupt, but part of their corruption is that they make sure to never look unjust. If everything goes well tomorrow, I doubt they’ll take custody of you on the spot.” Loki’s faraway gaze snapped to mine, suddenly carrying a burning intensity. “But if, for some reason, they decide to, I won’t let them.”

I shifted uncomfortably under his stare. The rest of his face was stoic as ever, but his eyes shot out a passion so intense that it could only be coming from god. It was the first time in my life I truly understood what “eyes staring into my soul” felt like.

“You shouldn’t sacrifice your place on the throne just for me,” I was eventually able to whisper.

Everything about him remained unchanging.

“But I will, if it’s necessary.” His voice was so soft, but seemed to make the entire palace rumble. Under its power, it was my turn to look away, and search for answers in the fire.

“What are your intentions for my ability?” I asked. “What are you training me for, other than to learn to control it?”

Loki’s presence returned to normal as he topped off his wine.

“My main thought is to make you a warrior. Your ability is hardwired for combat, and you have fantastic natural instincts for it. I figured that once I had you seasoned a bit, I would put you at the head of a special operations squad, and you would be virtually unstoppable. Your omnipotence also makes you an excellent candidate for an advisor and strategist. And with the ability to mind-control, you could be a spy and infiltrator, as well.”

My only response was to drain the rest of my wine.

“If you don’t want to be involved in war, though, there are a number of other things you could do with your ability. Managing the libraries, for example.” He paused to smile a bit, evidently very pleased at that mental image. “But I don’t want to force you into doing anything you don’t want to do. I just think that you will remain the healthiest if you’re regularly exercising your ability and not keeping it trapped inside. Is there anything you’d like to do? What did you do on Midgard?”

My voice was suddenly a dangerously low murmur.

“It doesn’t matter what I was on Midgard. Any evidence that I ever existed there is gone. My life before I came here has been completely erased.” I blinked away unexpected tears. “What I want is to matter. And I want to matter as Camryn, a person of her own right, not an extension of the Tesseract. If the Council takes that away from me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“As I said, I won’t let them.” Loki set his wine aside, rising from his chair and helping me do the same. “But for our best chance of success tomorrow, we ought to go to bed. Are you feeling better now?”

I noted the new lightness in my chest brought about by my poetic revelation. “Yes, now that I’ve talked about everything.” I nodded and turned towards the door. “Goodnight. Thank you for this.”

“Where are you going?” he called after me, reaching out and taking my hand. My heart leapt at the contact, and I looked over my shoulder at his slightly bemused expression.

“I thought you said we should go to bed,” I replied, brow furrowing.

He chuckled, as if the answer was blatantly obvious. “I meant my bed.”

“Are you sure?” I squeaked dumbly. Did Loki already like me that much?  
“Are you not?” When I didn’t refuse, Loki wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led me into his bedroom. I was so love- and dumbstruck that I barely took in the interior of the room, only watching with wide eyes as Loki lowered himself onto the blankets of the mammoth bed and pulled them down for me.

“I thought you said you didn’t sleep,” I murmured, hesitantly sliding down under the covers, afraid his offer would suddenly cease to be and he would force me out.

“I said that I don’t sleep much,” he corrected, waving his hand and extinguishing the lamps. “But with you here, maybe I’ll find it easier and more bearable.”

I thought on the “bearable” comment for half a moment as I laid down, but it was chased from my mind when Loki reached out and drew me to his chest. It wasn’t at all a rough movement, rather one of him draping his arm around my shoulders and using it as an anchor to tug himself closer to me, but it was enough for a quickly suppressed yelp to rise in my throat and for me to stiffen in shock. He must have noticed, because his gentle grip on me slackened.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “But despite all that I said, I’m just as nervous as you are. Right now it’s my instinct to want to have you as close to me as possible.”

“No.” I nuzzled myself further into him. “I was just surprised, that’s all. I didn’t expect that from you.”

“Honestly, neither did I. I don’t usually do things like this.” His thumb traced circles across my shoulder. “But this feels right.”

I almost asked about whether or not he ever did something similar with Toril, but swallowed the question and burrowed even further into him. “It does. Thank you for tonight.”

I didn’t expect to find a relaxed state so quickly, but there in the haven of his arms, all of my worries evaporated, leaving me in a little bubble of bliss. Lulled on by the soft movements of his chest and surrounded by his scent that I could only describe as fresh snow, I slipped into sleep and entered a world without worries for the first time since I woke up on Asgard.

I was roused the next morning by Gerd’s startled yelp. The sudden sound made me lose my bearings, and it was not until I saw Loki already completely alert next to me that I remembered what happened last night and realized the cause of her shock. When I pulled myself to a sitting position, allowing Gerd to see that my nightgown and Loki’s tunic were still on our bodies, her blush softened.

“My apologies for the intrusion, Your Majesty,” she panted, pressing a hand to her chest. “Inge and I went to get Camryn ready for the day and discovered that she wasn’t in her room. We thought that we had searched everywhere for her and I came to you in a state of emergency, but I see we neglected to look in the most obvious place.”

“I’m really sorry that I frightened you, Gerd.” My mild embarrassment overcame my reluctance to end my time of closeness with Loki, and I pulled myself up even further.

“It’s perfectly alright. You were already planning on breakfasting here, anyway, so it’s not as if much went askew.” She collected herself into a proper position for a handmaid to assume, her perfect manners completely restored in Loki’s presence. “Are Your Majesty and my lady ready for that now?”

“Yes, Gerd, that would be splendid,” Loki replied, already up and out of the bed, putting on a robe even though he was fully clothed.

“I’ll bring it in promptly, then.” Gerd’s wide brown eyes turned to me. “And Camryn, would you like us to prepare your chambers to get you ready for the Council meeting?”

“Um…” I trailed off, casting a glance in Loki’s direction. At the moment, he was the only thing keeping me calm, and if I left him right before the meeting, I would go mad with anxiety. Luckily for me, he received my silent plea.

“Actually, Gerd, she can get ready in here,” he interjected. “There are still a few things we need to discuss, and we intend on walking down together.”

“I see.” Gerd smiled sweetly. “I’ll go prepare everything, then.”

“Thank you, Gerd.” Loki saw her out, then turned to me with a look of pleasant reluctance. “Well, I suppose I ought to start preparing myself, as well. It won’t help our case to be tardy.”

Assuming that was my dismissal from the bedroom, I started to uncover myself and made to leave, but Loki noticed me and held his hand out with a furrowed brow.  
“No, you can stay,” he interjected, and an almost imperceptible look of surprise at himself passed across his features before they reshaped to their usual reserved expression. “Unless you’re not comfortable.”

I burrowed deeper into his mattress. It was, as a matter of fact, unusually cozy. “I’m comfortable.”

“Then stay, if you’d like. I think I have I book in the Midgardian Phoenician alphabet on one of my nightstands.” He turned his back to me and removed his superfluous robe. “I believe there might also be one in Japanese Hiragana, if you can read that.”

“I knew a bit of it before the Tesseract took over, but now I think I could read any language in the world.” I turned slightly towards the nightstand to look for a book to browse, but the sight before me made me forget reading completely.

Assuming I was otherwise occupied, Loki’s brow furrowed in a new train of thought, and his gaze fixed on some faraway spot as he took the bottom of his tunic and pulled it off over his head, revealing a body like a marble statue, the contrast of his soft, raven curls splaying out on the snowy white skin of his shoulders causing my heart to flutter. As he rooted around the room for things he needed to get dressed, lithe, taut muscles rippling with every movement, bringing to attention the numerous silvery scars that peppered his form, I realized the significance of the gesture.

Before, he had been unwilling to let Gerd, someone who had known him for at least half his life and someone he trusted enough to not banish from the palace after he took the throne, see him in only his unrevealing nightclothes. Now, in front of me, someone who had tried to kill him before and was a clear match in ability, a perhaps mysterious girl he had known for very little time considering his long life, he was completely undressing, and showing one of his most vulnerable states. And it wasn’t as if the undressing was a seductive matter, either. He was doing it with a complete air of routine and nonchalance, which somehow made it even more intimate. Whether consciously or not, it was an extreme statement that he trusted me immensely, and while our relationship had a rocky and awkward start, it was deep and true and something worth holding onto.

By the time he was clipping on his vambraces, the last step in the elaborate process of donning his armor, I was breathing heavily and tears pricked the back of my eyes. He paused to flash me a bemused and slightly confused look. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the knock that preceded Gerd’s entrance into the bedroom, carting a garment bag.

“Camryn, I’ve brought the things to prepare you for the meeting,” she announced. “And, Your Majesty, Inge is in the parlor with your breakfast. She’s requesting to know if it’s to your satisfaction.”

“Thank you, Gerd.” Loki’s smile was a bit tight. “I’ll go and check.”

I pulled myself out of bed and let Gerd lead me into the wardrobe, watching dejectedly as Loki passed out of the bedroom. I wanted to show how much I trusted him, too.

Once we were alone, Gerd helped me into a simple and conservatively cut gown in a muted taupe fabric, and merely pulled the sides of my hair away from my face with a strip of leather. I imagined the desired effect was to make me look as inconspicuous and cooperative as possible. She was uncharacteristically quiet as she dressed me, and I assumed she was as concerned for the meeting as I was. Now that I was no longer wrapped in the absolute safety of Loki’s arms, my earlier fears were beginning to creep back.

When Gerd deemed me ready, she led me into the parlor, where Inge was laying a spread out on the breakfast table and Loki was pouring tea. When he noticed our entrance, he put down the pot and approached us, taking me in with a half beloved and half dejected expression.

“Did I dress her appropriately?” Gerd inquired.

“I know the aim was to make her as unnoticeable as possible, but it’s simply impossible to not notice Camryn.” Loki’s comment carried the air of a great compliment, and I felt myself flush. “But yes, you came as close as anyone could. Do you feel like eating, Camryn?”

“Not really, but I feel like I should.” I folded myself into the chair Inge pulled out for me, the handmaid patting my shoulder reassuringly as I sat. “I’m starting to get nervous again.”

“To be honest with you, I’d be concerned if you weren’t. I’m a bit anxious, myself.” Loki gestured to my cup. “The tea should help. It’s more of the calming brew.”

I gulped down some of the sweet liquid, willing it to do its work quickly. I briefly eyed the spread in front of me and reached for a fig, picking at the fruit as I uttered my next question.

“This may sound a bit odd, but how should I behave in this meeting?”

Loki made a sound that might’ve been a sigh, the corners of his eyes turning downwards. “I hate to say this, but as quiet, agreeable, and boring as possible. For those moments, your safety will be the most ensured if you act as a creature that exists only to tell the Council what they want to hear, and doesn’t utter any other sound.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

“I hate silencing you.” Loki reached across the table and took his hand in mine. “But I hate even more the idea of what they would do to you if they feel threatened by you. Your presence is extraordinarily powerful, and it would be enough to make those shriveled bureaucrats uncomfortable just by you entering a room they occupy. I don’t want them to take that feeling too far.”

“No, I understand.” I stared at our joined hands, tracing some calluses on his palm with my forefinger. “I want to be safe, too, and stay here with you.”

A sound somewhere between a delighted squeak and a sigh came from behind me, and I turned around to see Gerd’s dreamy expression and Inge lightly elbowing her in the ribs. Gerd blushed again and turned around, returning to her duties of tidying the room for the day. The incident was enough to cheer me in the midst of the dark situation.

“I want you to stay with me, too.” It was Loki’s turn to stare at our hands. “I feel that, together as a pair, we can accomplish great things. We just have to secure our opportunities to do so.”

After our heartfelt declarations, the rest of breakfast passed in silence: Loki picking at the palm of his left hand while I twirled a section of hair round and round my finger. When our food was cleared away, it wasn’t yet time to go to the meeting. Loki and I debated back and forth on whether it would be a better idea to practice with my power and release a bit of it, or not practice in case that it went out of control before I appeared in front of the Council. Eventually, the stress of the decision paired with the nerves I already had bottled up inside caused blue sparks to radiate from my hands, something that hadn’t happened in a long while. We decided to drop the subject, and Loki instead taught me how to play an Asgardian card game quite similar to poker until the palace bells tolled half past eleven.

Loki glanced at the enormous clock in the corner of the room, with four markers instead of twelve, and grimaced. He rose from his seat at the table and a simple brown cloak appeared in his hands. I suddenly felt as if I was going to vomit up what little food I ate, sucking in a deep breath to keep it down as I rose from my own chair and stepped into the offered garment.

“Are we going to a different building?” I asked, tying the strings below my neck as Loki draped his own cloak around his shoulders, his much grander and lined in stunning silver fur.

“Unfortunately not,” Loki replied. “The Council would never stand for being that separated from the goings on of the palace. However, they’ve never been liked by any monarch to sit the throne, so their chambers are on the opposite side of the palace. We’ll have to pass through several courtyards and outdoor walkways.”

“Oh.” With heavy hands, I reached out and took Loki’s offered arm. The more I heard about the Council, the more my trepidation grew.

The moment we passed out of Loki’s chambers, we were flanked by the guards that were before stationed on either side of his door, the clanking of their armor with every step they took providing an eerie soundtrack to our journey. Loki led me out of the royal residential wing of the palace, down a grand, common staircase, and onto a lengthy covered bridge connecting two towers. He was correct in giving me the cloak, for the wind was biting and a half-frozen drizzle dropped from the sky, but I was too anxious to care about the cold. As Loki led me through galleries and courtyards and gardens, all sights I had fawned over during my palace tour, my nerves prevented me from noticing or appreciating any of it, and it was all I could do to hold onto his arm for dear life and try not to faint from fear.

When we finally reached the corridor where the Council chambers were held, their presence appropriately marked by a towering black door, we encountered Gerd and Inge, both flushed and giggling slightly, flanked by Brenna, who was cool as ever.

“We’ve just returned from laying out the banquet spread for their meeting,” Gerd explained before we could ask, breath quickened slightly.

“Yes, with a little twist in their drinks.” Brenna wiggled a vial between her thumb and forefinger. Loki reached out and snatched it, squinting at the label.

“It’s just some of the draught that we give patients when we’re doing minor fixes such as stitches or setting a bone,” she explained. “It’s not enough to have any effect that will make them suspect that anything is amiss. I just put enough in to make them happy, impressionable, and easily swayed in your favor.”

“I would typically be against such a thing, but in this case, I think it might be necessary,” Inge put in.

“It’s the same for me.” Gerd earnestly took both of my hands in hers. “The members of the Council are absolutely vile. I would be devastated if you fell victim to them.”

My breath caught in my throat, and the most articulate answer I could muster was: “Me, too.”

The palace bells tolled again, and Loki gently placed a hand on my shoulder.

“As much as I hate it,” he said. “We’d better get in there.”

“Of course.” Gerd kissed me on both cheeks with tears in her doe’s eyes, Inge embraced me tightly, and Brenna gave me an encouraging pat. As I watched the trio disappear around a corner, my body erupted into trembles, and I tried desperately to calm them as Loki approached the ominous door and knocked twice.

There came sounds of calm scuffling from behind the doors, along with various snatches of indistinct conversation. Loki tutted and rolled his eyes at the noise, tapping his toes impatiently. It was all I could do to stand still without fainting. Once the commotion died down, there came the sound of a heavy latch being pulled aside, and the monstrous doors opened with a powerful groan. The bald, portly servant that granted us entry bowed as we came into the room, pooling black robes covering his clasped hands. Loki took my arm and pulled me tightly to his side, and I relished in the small comfort. I could tell he wanted to do more, but if the Council realized that we were lovers, it certainly wouldn’t help our case.

The Council chambers seemed very much a place where a soul would learn whether it was going to heaven or hell. It was an enormous circular room, each and every step echoing on the floor, which was etched with runes that my newfound power allowed me to read, boasting ominous statements about order and justice and balance. In the exact center of the chamber, the runes on the floor stopped, their presence replaced by a solid black circle- the obvious place for victims to stand. Directly above that spot of accusation, the towering ceiling drew up into an onyx dome, very much giving the impression of a very powerful storm preparing to abound on the Council’s victims.

Loki and I painstakingly made our way to this fateful circle, an invisible weight on my chest growing heavier with every step. I wanted to keep my gaze down at my shoes, but, eerie as the room was, there was something strangely beautiful about it, and I couldn’t resist gawking at it.

The walls were done in a pale grey stone, a contrast to the golden splendor of the rest of the palace. In fact, the chamber seemed very much like a dungeon. Behind us, there was a generous yet short length of mahogany bleachers, likely for public observations of Council meetings. That day, only a scribe occupied the seats, thick brow furrowed as he organized himself to record my fate. With a gulp, I steeled myself to face those that would decide it.

The Councilor’s seats were elevated dozens of feet above us, and they perched over us like patrons in a box at a theatre. The shelf that raised their towering thrones was also done in mahogany, but was painted with gruesome scenes of cruel judgement and justice. I felt my blood run cold. Was this a council chamber or a courtroom of hell?

Atop the shelf sat nine men clothed in rich brown robes, chatting as a collection of more black-robed servants cleared away a meal from before them and refilled their wine goblets. I remembered Brenna’s ploy, and hoped that the drug did the trick.

Though the men all varied in appearance, they all held the same sinister, serpentine expression in their eyes. They clearly noticed our entrance, but seemed to make a deliberate move to ignore us, plucking the last scraps from their plates and continuing their conversations. Loki bristled beside me, nostrils flaring.

“For Valhalla’s sake,” he muttered. “They may be the Council, but I am still their king.”

When the men above us made no further moves to acknowledge our presence, Loki cleared his throat loudly, the sound reverberating across the room until all eyes were on us. The chatter didn’t halt completely, however, until the Councilor in the center rose, his spot raised higher than everyone else’s. With torturously slow steps, he approached the end of their box, thick white beard falling over the edge as he leaned over and pulled his wide lips into a positively wicked grin. When my legs were trembling under his penetrating expression, he straightened and briefly turned to his colleagues before raising his attention to address the absent audience.

“We shall begin.”


End file.
